I’m giving up blogging

From THIS blog space, anyway.

I’ve spent just over a year in this little corner of Cyberspace, blogging about being a mum, breastfeeding, baby-led weaning, relationships, travel, getting married, tantrums, working and everything else inbetween.

Since I started this blog I couldn’t have foreseen where it would have taken me. I branched out into a whole new career path and am now working about four different jobs that probably wouldn’t have happened if it wasn’t for this beautiful little blog.

What you’re like now

Dear Frog,

You may not be walking yet, but at 21 months old you’re certainly not a baby.

What you are like now:

1) You shout NO! A lot.

2) You’re rapidly going off wearing a nappy.

3) You sing yourself to sleep with that popular nursery rhyme all about a Russian oligarch with a bladder problem; Tinkle Tinkle Little Tsar is your favourite song.

Silent Sunday

Message in a bottle (or Facebook)

As well as being a co-presenter for a breakfast radio show, I also earn my crust as a writer. Part of this job involves writing features, part of it involves writing commercial copy and part of it involves blogging.

I rarely put any of my work-related writing here because this is my personal space. But I wanted to share my most recent post for one of my clients, because it’s something that I could easily have written right here.

***

It’s 10 o’clock at night and I’ve had a difficult day. I’m tired and emotional and a bit overwhelmed.

We’ve been at the hospital, you see. My daughter, now approaching 22 months old, is still not walking. The doctors think there may be a problem with her hips.

A diagnosis, of sorts

Hospital waiting rooms - a good source of books

I didn’t sleep last night.

I was too busy tossing and turning in bed, mulling over the various different things that could mean my toddler isn’t toddling. Why is it that things always seem so much worse in the dark?

Today’s hospital appointment – both dreaded and anticipated – wasn’t particularly pleasant. The X-ray which I was hoping to avoid did actually happen. The consultant examined Frog’s gorgeous hips and sent us straight to the room with the “special camera”.

Tomorrow

I’m dreading tomorrow. I’m anticipating tomorrow. I can’t wait for it to come. The thought of it fills me with dread.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow I should find out what is wrong with my little girl, if anything. Tomorrow I should find out if my non-toddling toddler is just a late walker or if there is, indeed, a more sinister reason for her lack of mobility.

The end of my marriage?

Camping.

That word will either conjure up nostalgic memories of being at one with nature, free in the open countryside, with the fresh smell of morning dew in your nostrils as you wake at dawn. Or it will conjure up pure, unadulterated panic.

It’s a fact of life – just as there are dog people and cat people – there are campers and non-campers.

Silent Sunday

Judgmental mum fail

I’ve always prided myself on having a “live and let live” attitude. Until someone does something which I find extremely annoying / questionable / offensive. And then “let live” goes out the window and I decide everyone should live along my code of life. Because I am always right, clearly.

When I became a mum I was shocked at how this attitude took itself to the next level. Mums who let their babies cry in the night – why? Mums who didn’t choose Baby-led Weaning – why not? Mums who were all competitive about their baby’s milestones – what’s the point?

One more week without answers

This time next week, we’ll be less than 24 hours away from some answers. Hopefully.

There are now only seven days between us and the hospital appointment which may shed some light on why my 21 month old daughter is still not walking. Or standing.

Since the referral I’ve flitted between absolute unerring hesitation that there is nothing wrong with my child, and the unquestioning certainty that, actually, there is a problem.