The Best Kind Of News.

Milo’s Story

The day I found out I was pregnant was an amazing but tough day. I had just eaten goats cheese and smoked salmon on toast, after a weekend away on the Guinness in Dublin, so it honestly wasn’t expected.

I’d always wanted to plan a surprise if we were lucky enough to fall pregnant, like the ones you see on you tube. You know, some buns in the oven or a t-shirt on Halloween with a skeleton baby in my skeleton tummy. What I didn’t expect was to be making a call over FaceTime and sharing the news to Milo’s daddy thousands of miles away (3,823.1 miles to be exact – I should know I googled it enough times) because he was in the desert, the sandpit they call Kuwait. He had been there for a year. At the time I was only weeks away from making the move myself, I’d stayed behind when he left to finish renovating the house that we had bought just before he was headhunted for a job away from home.

And for those of you wondering how you can get pregnant with 3,823.1 miles between you, we did see each other approximately every three weeks and it only takes one cheeky careless moment to create a miracle. Even my cheeky dentist made the joke about who was the daddy.

I don’t remember much of the call, I remember I facetimed from the toilet. I asked him to sit down and then I said I’d something to show him. Then there were tears (mainly from me) and a lot of the f*** word (in a good way) as I tried to position a bloody iPhone camera over a positive pregnancy test. In a perfect world that’s not how I would have broken the news, but at least it gives us something to laugh about now.

We found out in October, and we were exactly 12 weeks on Christmas Eve. We were even luckier to have our twelve week scan that morning. We couldn’t have timed that better if we’d been trying, and it did make for some very special surprises on Christmas Day. I finally got the chance to be creative, although watching back the videos I wouldn’t share them with the world, they are so special to us. But I’ll talk about them another time or I’ll be here all day.

I think if I could have it any other way I’d still have done it the same. It certainly wasn’t how I’d dreamt it would happen but it’s a story to tell, and if we are lucky enough to fall pregnant again then I’ve plenty of ideas saved, and I will definitely not be doing it over FaceTime.


Matilda’s Story

Before becoming pregnant I had always dreamt of doing a pregnancy test, finding out it was positive and then wrapping the stick up in a little box (yeah so maybe it’s a little gross), then handing it to my husband as a gift on a romantic date and watching his super happy face as he realised what his gift meant. However it didn’t really happen like that. I ended up doing the pregnancy test while my husband was around, however it was still amazingly perfect for us to wait together for those two and a half excruciating minutes, eagerly waiting to see how many lines would show up on the test.

So I also didn’t get the dream reveal to Matilda’s daddy, however just as Milos mummy did once we found out it was positive we got to tell our families in special ways. But let’s save that for another time.


Hello. Is Anyone There?

Where has my brain gone?

Is it just me or has becoming a mum turned my brain to complete mush.
I used to cruise through the weeks ticking things off my imaginary head list with skill and ease, I didn’t forget things and I was always on time.
Now it’s like my head is full of holes and the information sometimes drops through. Make that always drops through. In fact I’d go as far as to say I’m lucky if I remember to put clothes on in the morning. How far do you think I’d actually get before I realised I was still in my underwear…..the front door, the car, the supermarket?

I thought it would get better now Milo is a little older and sleeping through the nights, but no, I’m still completely useless.

This last week alone I have forgotten the times to two classes, these are classes I’ve been attending for the last 8 months. One I missed completely, I sat outside waiting for everyone to arrive while they were actually inside having already been doing it for twenty minutes. When Matilda’s mummy text me asking me if I was ok I responded smugly, saying I was that I was early and sat outside…..I soon fell from that cloud when she told me it had actually started and was almost finishing. Ugh!
The other class (swimming) I realised 15 minutes before that it started at 10 and not 10.30. It’s an approx 10 minute drive and requires a clothes change for both of us, so I’ve no idea how I managed to make it poolside with 6 minutes to spare. I didn’t break any speed limits but I didn’t slow for speed bumps and I think the car may have even took flight a few times as I took them lethal weapon style.

I start things that I don’t finish, including sentences and conversations. I put things down for them to never be found again and I now can’t even remember what I’m supposed to write here next because I’ve forgotten that too. Notes don’t help because I have also started and not finished them.

I have put milk in the cupboard and I found a yogurt in the microwave the other week, although I’m convinced that was Milo’s daddy messing with me. He thinks it’s really funny, it’s like a big joke. Although he wasn’t laughing when I forget where I had put his car keys a few weeks ago, thankfully it was the weekend and I had time to find them, it was ok but I’m now banned from touching them. I misplace my own car keys at least twice a week, I never did this before Milo.

So I’ve decided that baby brain is real. But is it lack of sleep? Is it too many other things going on in your brain or is it just that all the stuff that’s important now (anything to do with your baby) is blocking out all the non important items. Will I ever recover or am I destined to be scatty and forgetful for the rest of my life. If I have a second child will I descend further into this black hole, will I remember my own name?

For now I will have to continue with my new hobby of making ‘to do lists’ and keeping a diary. I use Milo & Matilda’s chalk board to plan my classes and I’ve started adding a ‘travel time’ in all events in my iPhone and reminders (two) before this. Anything that helps me be where I am supposed to be when I am supposed to be there, helps me do what I am supposed to do and helps me remember to put my pants on in the morning has got to be a good thing.

I’m lucky I remembered to post this.


One of my many ‘reminders’

Babies and Renovations…..

Expect a number of posts regarding this topic over the coming months. I can guarantee tears, tantrums and complete meltdowns (and that’s just from me)

Why? Because we have decided to renovate with a baby. Hahahaha, silly parents!
Now we’ve done this before, Milo’s daddy gets bored easily so we’ve already bought, renovated and sold a few houses. It has been fun, stressful, exciting, challenging and well worth every minute. However the main thing being these were all were all PRE-BABY!!

So not content with his new important job back in the UK, a relocation from the Middle East and a new baby he decided that we needed a little more, so he bought us a project. A very big project.
The last house we renovated saw the whole roof removed, and I had to bunk in a friends spare room (while pregnant) for weeks on end. So did he decide that this time we would get a house we could keep the roof on, we could live in and renovate around ourselves. Don’t be silly, he decided we needed the most work possible of course.

To say I’m worried is a bit of an understatement. How do you actually renovate with a baby? When the roof comes off this house, will we all have to live in the summerhouse in the garden, we have an old shed as well, maybe one could be our living space and one our small, damp and cold bedroom. Will we have to stay with grandparents, I don’t know how they would cope with us for weeks and weeks on end. So how exactly do you raise a tiny human on a building site. Parents, friends, even the architect, they have all told us we are mad and it’s a ridiculous idea, but then we like a challenge. I have real visions of having to wash Milo each night outside in a flexi tub and mixing his porridge in the cement mixer.

Oh look, two new bath tubs for Milo!

Planning applications went in a week ago, so based on previous experience that gives me another 5-6 weeks of normality. After that I might be a crazy person. If anyone has any advice (or a spare room) please do get in touch!


Milo is nine months old and when they say children are like sponges it’s so true. At the moment he is sucking everything up, watching every move and listening to every sound and starting to mimic and copy us.

When I say us I actually mean his grandad. Honestly It’s driving us mad, first there was the strange noise he copied that prompted someone is Sainsburys to say to me ‘your baby sounds like an ewok’ which got grandad his first telling off. This week it is the tongue thing…..oh boy is this a special one. A lady in Specsavers the other day asked if Milo was ok….I had no response for her. Grandad has swiftly been told off again and asked to behave. For anyone reading this you might think I’m being unnecessarily harsh on grandad, but you guys haven’t seen this thing Milo does. It is not cute, not cute at all. Is it wrong to just want him to grow up not weird.

So the other day something happened, something that tested me as a mummy, it was horrifying but completely expected, in the back of my mind I knew this day would eventually come.
I had popped into Milos room, he was just waking up from a nap and was chatting away in his cot, greeting me with that huge grin.

Then I saw it.

Sitting there like it owned the room, watching me with its hundreds of eyes (maybe it’s only eight but hundreds sounds more dramatic) I couldn’t take a picture because it was too big, think dinner plate size. It’s many legs twitching away, making it look like it might have been dancing.

So you might have guessed it. I. Hate. Spiders.

They terrify me, but I can’t kill them so it makes life a little difficult. I make Milo’s daddy remove them safely and wave them on their way.
Well he wasn’t in. What would I do, my son is there, and I can’t get to him because a 2ft spider (at least) stands in the way.

When I was pregnant my mum would say to me you need to worry less, you need to stop stressing because babies pick up on these things. Whether it’s true or not it’s stuck in my mind so there really was only one choice.
I would leave Milo, leave the house, lock the door and wait for help. Ok so maybe that wasn’t actually an option, so I had to remove the spider myself.

I want my son to grow up thinking mummy is brave, I want him to not be scared of anything, a bit more like his dad than me. I’m scared of loads of stuff, it seems the older I get the wimpier I get too! Especially with how he is watching and learning at the moment I need to be the bravest so that he can be the bravest.

Glass in hand I teetered back and forth, half expecting the spider to jump on his back legs and dive at my face, what would happen to me, can you actually die from fear?
Fear is so silly, this thing is smaller than me so why am I starting to sweat and starting to feel a bit dizzy in the head.

Then, looking at Milo who was watching me intently I dived forward and trapped incy wincy in the glass (a huge glass for my 2ft dinner plate sized spider) and half the job was done.
Then I got Milo and through the glass showed him the spider, pretending it was super cool and exciting. Hopefully I faked it enough for him to think his mummy is the bravest and that spiders are cool (when they are outside at least 20ft from me.)

I’d like to say I finished the job but that would be a lie. I left the room, shut the door and incy spent his whole day in the glass greenhouse until daddy came home that evening and he could remove it and send him packing. During the day I might have checked occasionally that he was still under the glass, just in case he’d developed extraordinary spidee strength and thrown the glass off and headed for my bedroom.

Being a mum is hard, I’ve had to do things I never thought I would, but right now while I can I’m going to be the bravest mummy, I’ll battle spiders if it means he grows up not scared of them. I’ll pretend I love flying so he grows up wanting to travel and I’ll eat all my vegetables while saying ‘yum’ and ‘oooh that’s tasty’, yes even aubergine if it means he loves healthy food. I’m sure I’ll make mistakes and I’m sure he will sooner or later figure out that I’m a bit of a wimp, but let’s hope I can keep it up just long enough for him to have braveness imprinted on his brain.