Snot and other ‘gifts’ for our first Christmas

It has been a while since I last updated the blog (thank you for all the kind words about the previous episodes)… a combination of the Christmas holidays and getting back into the swing of things at work heading into a busy 2015 has meant that the blog has been placed firmly on the back burner.

Having now reached some sort of balance and routine (famous last words) I have been able to reflect over our first Christmas and put pen to paper/fingers to keyboard.

We embarked on a Lord of The Rings type journey up the country from the sleepy South West to the even sleepier Lake District for a family holiday. Bubs had her first cold, so the five hour car journey was a traumatic one for all involved. If she wasn’t asleep she was SCREAMING… full of snot and goodness knows what else she found feeding hard, the whole breathing through nose while sucking on a bottle was not happening. All of this in conjunction with what we know as a ‘leap’ – a growth spurt where physically and mentally EVERYTHING changes for little people.

So she didn’t eat a lot, so she was hungry, so she screamed.

She didn’t sleep a lot because of the breathing thing, so she was tired, so she screamed.

She was cramped into a car seat, so couldn’t stretch and wriggle like normal, so she screamed.

Once out of the car seat at service stations she could stretch, but that probably hurt with growing pains, so she screamed.

Even though I am sure a large proportion of those people having the caffeine stop at the service stations we visited en route were understanding of our situation, when you are holding a screaming banshee ball of mucus you start to think those eyes looking upon you are judging your parent skills. Mix that with trying to communicate with the other half when one of us is holding the banshee, you end up shouting in short concise (could be taken as ‘moody’) sentences in between shrieks and snuffles… a perfect cocktail of stress and tiredness – that’s what Christmas is all about right?

When it comes to cold remedies babies get the raw end of the deal until three months old. Most remedies suggest that baby needs to be at least three months old before use… Now pre baby my wife was a stickler for rules. It could be any rule, we would have to keep to it… However a baby screaming with snot bubbling out of each nostril and not sleeping the rule of three months and over for certain products was thrown out. To clarify we were not completely gun ho with the life of our little one, we weren’t filling her bottles with Nightnurse or anything like that. Clarification from the local GP that our chunky monkey was the weight of a three month and therefore the rules could be bent gave us the green light to try any remedy to ease the snuffles.

Calpol has the sweetest smell of any medication I have encountered, Mary Poppins sang a ‘Spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down’ this stuff smells like it has a ladle full of sugar although it tells us it is sugar and colour free!? We administer it via the provided syringe… at times this syringe sticks and I admit to having sent a medical torpedo of this sickly sweet smelling concoction right down the back of the throat of our trusting little person. Cue wide eyes of surprise and then screaming through shock!

On arrival to the accommodation in the Lakes we were met by all the family. Some baby had met once, others she had never met… cue a sense overload… so many coochee coos and cuddles, passed from one cousin to the next, obviously this led to more screaming.

Tanked up on calpol, baby vicks and having had time to get comfortable with new surroundings baby sat with family members having a play–Graunty Sally (we have coined Graunty and Gruncle for the great aunties and uncles) playing who can make the silliest noise, managed to break through the tiredness/hunger/grumpiness and got the first ever giggle from our bambino. A release of emotion from stressed parents led to a mix of laughter and crying… baby just laughed along with us.

Post first giggle our mission then was to make baby laugh as much as possible. She clued up pretty quickly and decided she would not be a performing monkey and would not laugh on demand. She let out an almighty giggle when Karen and I were bent over in hysterics… This moment of mirth started during bath time. We often joked that at some point she was bound to poo in the bath, the law of parenting averages would tell you to expect it. As I muttered “Perhaps tonight is poo-bath night” we had her crimson face of disaster… a brief strain/grunt and the bath water turned an evil EVIL shade… something touched my hand as I held baby to prevent her splashing this evil bath/poo soup everywhere… it wasn’t the wash cloth!!! We fell about laughing, baby found this hilarious and copied us… all three of us laughing, two of us with poo on or around us. We had to wait for the laughter tears to pass before cleaning up the mess and starting bath time all over again!

iPone pics Jan 2015 097 iPone pics Jan 2015 205

It is during the regular bath times that I realised how much stuff baby has; oils, lotions, shampoos, medicated things, soothing smells etc etc. When I moved in with Karen the bathroom products I had at my disposal increased in size dramatically (male friends have admitted to similar increase of toiletries when living with girls). Options of silky smooth shampoos, ultra moisturising whatsits, hair oils, hand stuff, exfoliating sandpaper like body washes… and so on. I tried them all. Now with baby’s stuff I have a plethora of other options when it comes to pampering at bath/shower time. I am not afraid to admit it, I will probably try everything!

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2 thoughts on “Snot and other ‘gifts’ for our first Christmas

  1. Ben

    There are few things more stressful as a parent than a car journey when you child doesn’t want to be in a car seat. Just horrendous and often nothing you can do other than keep driving otherwise it’ll take a week to get anywhere.
    I am very thankful that the poo in the bath incidents we’ve had have only involved solid poo’s that can be fished out easily 🙂

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  2. Pingback: The Mile High Club… | Inked Daddy

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