I realise that “normal” is generally an unquantifiable entity in that, what is normal when life changes all the time?  But today, after two weeks of upset and sickness, I saw a glimpse of my son’s normal self. Again it’s difficult to say what is normal for a one year old baby as they still aren’t developed enough to really know what their personality is.  There are far too many other factors that alter them (teething, injections, moods of older siblings, moving countries, inability to move) and make them appear to be a certain way (moody, sad, scared, unsettled, frustrated).  Put it this way, I wouldn’t want to describe Jackson’s personality based on the last two weeks – he has not looked good! So this afternoon, when there seemed to be no discomfort or pain effecting him, my boy was cheeky, bold and happy.  He also pooed in his potty, ate some food and played with his toys – normal.  I really do hope this lasts for a while – I am shattered. 12 hours …

This may well be one of the hardest weeks in my career as a mother. Starts off, after a shaky weekend following vaccinations, with Jackson still being curiously grumpy.  After five days of Jackson rejecting almost all foods and being downright miserable, I Googled Hepatitis B, just to make sure it wasn’t worth taking our chances and sacking off vaccinations for the real thing.  But it looks pretty nasty so we’ll brave the next batch of injections. By Thursday I’ve really had quite enough of all this sadness dragging us down so off we go to the GP.  “Doctor won’t do my leg mummy?” inquires my little girl as we walk into the waiting room. “No sweetheart” (I’m officially dreading the next lot of those things!). Turns out Jackson has tonsillitis – almost relieved as that means there’s a chance we won’t have this much upset next month.  He’s on antibiotics and should be better for the weekend, which is nice for daddy but I can’t help feeling a little bitter about the fact I’ve …

Even though we were all up to date in the UK my poor little babes are now facing rounds of immunisations, for Hepatitis B. Like every other mother I dread them.  The actual injection when you have to grip your child as the nurse stabs them, the feeling “delicate” for the rest of the day and in the case of my poor son, the loss of appetite leading to trouble having a poo. They had their injections on Thursday, four days later and Jackson is still not himself.  And in three weeks time we have to go through it all again, then four weeks later another one.  A month after that he will be 15 months and due his MMR. So whilst I am still reeling from the horrors that are baby immunisations I would just like to say – anyone who doesn’t get their child immunised is selfish and spineless. And you’re very welcome that the rest of us put our children through this to make sure the population doesn’t suffer from epidemics of …

The great thing about children, and in particular ones that are below four, they are not afraid to do things slightly different to how everyone else is doing them. Take Minnie and her new best friend Ethan.  They both have matching scooters (it’s like they were meant to be) and they are learning to ride them.  Like me, you might think that the best way to learn to ride a scooter is to listen to instruction, watch how mummy does it and then have a go yourself.  But Minnie and Ethan aren’t like you or I, no they like to think outside of the box.  On their journey of scooter discovery they like to do this… I have no idea how long this phase of learning to “ride” a scooter is going to last but I am believing that it’s a brief warming up to actually putting feet on the scooter and attempting to push oneself in a forward motion.  One can only hope. In the meantime I am trying to work out a way …

Every two to three months I will have a total meltdown, the air will be blue, I will be upset, there will be shouting and I will seriously consider leaving my husband and children.  And by leave I mean not show up at dinner time and sulk in the bedroom with a bar of Dairy Milk. Now I can’t be sure but I think it’s hormonal.  Generally my period comes about 48 hours later.  So in a way it’s not a real meltdown (can’t believe I am giving my husband ammunition for the next time this happens) but it’s actually just a chemical imbalance in my body.  Have to say it does feel a lot in my head though too. The frustration I feel on that fateful day is always about not having time for myself.  Again it’s probably my body telling me a little bit of ‘me time’ would be a good thing as it’s pretty busy with all them there hormones.  But what it feels like is my life is too much, the …