the village hall

Two years ago on a chilly, damp November afternoon six Mums with their new babies met in our village hall, brought together by a Mum whose children have now flown the nest. Back when her children were toddlers she and the other mums in the village started up a playgroup, meeting in the village hall each week for tea and activities. As the years passed, the children grew up and as no new youngsters were born into the village the playgroup folded.

We were all first time Mums, some had lived here all their lives, some of us were new to town. All were grateful for the efforts this woman had gone to to facilitate our meeting. We all sat mostly focussing on our babies, feeding, cuddling, soothing, and exchanged polite conversation, trying to remember each others' and our babies' names.

For a while we met once a month and gradually friendships formed. Some of us brought along friends we knew from nearby villages, and there are now nine of us who meet every two weeks, much the same as they did years ago - for tea and fun.

Those early meetings provided an additional source of support, a chance to chat about all the things that worry new parents and discover that none of us were alone whether we were struggling with feeding, sleeping, getting things done, adjusting to not going out to work. Whatever it was we always found someone else who felt the same. Today the same still stands. Confidence in ourselves and our abilities as parents ebb and flow amongst the group. There is often laughter, some venting of frustration, the odd angry outburst, occasionally there are tears.

I thought I'd mark the second anniversary of our meeting as a show of respect and thanks to the women who have helped keep me sane over these last two years.

two good eyes

If you were to ask me 'what's the one thing you'd change about yourself', my reply would come without hesitation. I don't wish for a smaller nose, a different colour hair, to be a little taller, or to have a flatter tummy. Though looking at me all those things might not be bad suggestions. No. I would simply ask for perfect eyesight. I've worn glasses since I was about 15, I need a fairly strong prescription, the first thing I do every day is put my specs on. I wish I could see without them.

A couple of months ago I noticed Scarlett's eye seemed to wander slightly off to one side sometimes, usually when she was tired, so having mentioned it in the health centre we received a hospital appointment for an assessment today . I went thinking I was probably worrying about nothing, but better to get it checked out.

We started with a little family history.
Yes, Daddy and I wear glasses. Yes, Nanna has a problem with peripheral vision in one eye, has worn glasses since childhood. Yes, Grampy has glasses for reading and has glaucoma. Yes, I have a glaucoma assessment due in January. Yes, a variety of other relatives wear glasses including my sister who has worn them since she was seven. My prescription is -7, hers is -10. Eyesight, not this family's strongest asset.

The nurse then started some simple observations. Moving lollipop sticks with characters on, she watched as Scarlett followed them with her eyes. Scarlett Immediately closed one eye or rubbed it, but she warmed to the nurse and nevertheless seemed pretty comfortable doing as she was asked. The wandering eye was apparent straight away to the specialist, so the weeks ahead will involve more visits, tests and some kind of treatment. Up to that point I was just glad we'd kept this appointment.

Then Scarlett had to look at some cards from a distance with bold outline pictures of a car, an apple, a fish, a duck. From across the room she excitedly announced what she could see. All was well. Then with the right eye covered the same happened. All good. Then she had her left eye covered and everything changed.

I've never heard a silence as loud as the one that followed, if you get what I mean.

From across the room the nurse asked her what she could see. Silence.
She moved a little nearer. Silence and some squirming.
She came up next to us. Deafening silence.

Now I know this is not an awful illness, I know there are many, many much worse things but I just feel so horribly sad. Was she just bored of the game? Was she suddenly shy? Or could she really not see?

We left having booked the next available appointment to see the consultant opthalmologist. There's no point in speculating, worrying, or stressing, although I will do all of those as we count down the days until next Thursday when hopefully we will learn more.

As we left Scarlett was given a sticker - a picture of a frog with a slogan. It said
'two good eyes' and that's what I'm praying for for her.

intuition

'a new mum is a woman at the height of her natural intuitive powers'

I came across this quote that I'd written in a notebook sometime during my pregnancy.
It was a notebook full of websites, books and snippets of information that made up the idyllic imaginary world of life with baby. A world that was very different once she was born. The notebook lay neglected and forgotten about in a pile of random stuff until today when I rediscovered it, tore out the pages I'd used and set about using it for a completely different purpose.

The torn pages list places I can buy organic bath towels, eco-and baby-friendly shampoo, Elle Mcpherson nursing bras, a multitude of sources for washable nappies, all sorts of things on cleaning the house in the most environmentally friendly way, and a knitting pattern for a heart-shaped mobile for the nursery. At least I used the knitting pattern.

I don't know the source of the original quote, but it set me thinking. Is that how I felt when I became a mother? Is that how you felt?

I can't say I did at first. Although I was lucky enough to feel that overwhelming rush of absolute love for my daughter the moment I held her, I really didn't know what to do. And I really didn't want to be left alone with her, the responsibility felt massive...so I did all I knew to do and kept her in my arms all night.

By the time we were back home the following evening I had still only let go of her enough to be polite; it was only fair that Daddy and family members had a little cuddle. And then sleep deprivation and crazy hormones confused me into misinterpreting something someone said and I put her down for fear of holding her too much. After another night awake I laid my baby down in the morning and watched her sleep for hour after hour after hour. When the midwife came at 3 in the afternoon she was a little surprised to hear how long it had been since I'd fed her. So we coaxed her awake and tried to give her a feed.

What followed was an hour of this position, that position, these cushions, those cushions, no cushions, rising stress levels, a baby who just wanted to sleep, tears and eventually a car ride back to hospital where a sweet, patient and wonderful woman showed me how to get a few tiny drops of milk from me to a dish, into a syringe and from there onto my baby's tiny lips.

By the time we got back home we were back on track. The breastfeeding road proved difficult for a good while longer but we'd overcome our first hurdle. There was still a lot to learn, there is still a lot to learn, but I think my 'natural intuitive powers' had been sparked into life by the shock of those early days.

Since then I've sought advice and ideas and theories and solutions and thoughts from lots of different people, from blogs, from books, from professionals. Whatever the dilemma I try hard to be guided by my instincts and most importantly after that early lesson to trust them.

There's no way to be sure though is there?

friends

Cave Mother wrote earlier this week about things that make our hearts melt. It was a very sweet post.

Yesterday as we were dancing around the kitchen I got a new one to add to my list.
Scarlett said, " Mummy is my best friend".

Made my day.

Grampy

I have been busy over the weekend dressmaking and sewing some gifts to sell at a local craft market next weekend. Not the easiest thing to do with a curious toddler around, so Scarlett had a day out with Daddy on Saturday and went cycling with Daddy and Grampy yesterday.

Now Grampy falls into the category of 'people to be slightly wary of'. There's no reason for this, it's just a little girl's uncertainty, so to see her head off with him with a big smile on her face was a pretty big deal for me.

It rained for most of the 12 mile trip, so they picnicked under the pine trees and came back chilly and damp but full of beans.

it all happens so fast

I'm a real sucker for filling out forms, I can't help myself. So when we were given an envelope to take home playgroup today and I opened it to discover Scarlett's enrolment form for when she starts going alone in January, my first instinct was to grab a pen and start filling it in. Name, DOB, emergency contacts...

Upon further investigation I found an A4 booklet for us to fill in with Scarlett called 'All About Me'. Somewhere to record with words or pictures a little bit about herself - family, friends, favourite things to do, food she likes, things that upset her, and important medical information. The invitation to let her personalise the pages with her own drawings, coupled with the chance to add photos and fill in the questions got me very excited. What fun we are going to have.

And then I stopped and thought about it.

It's not long until Christmas and just after that off she'll go. She'll run in excitedly, barely remembering to kiss me goodbye. She'll play and laugh and chat. She'll listen to stories, eat her snack, sing and dance. She'll paint and glue, and make things. For three hours a day, twice a week.

Without me.

And before I know it she'll be at school.

I tucked everything back in the envelope and put it at the bottom of our 'to do' pile. Out of sight, out of mind. There's plenty of time for that later...

daddy time

When Dad's been away at bit it takes Scarlett a while to warm up to him again.

Just like this week. Monday morning he headed off to work early and stayed away overnight. Yesterday he returned home after bedtime. He was off again first thing today, so she didn't see him until he arrived back late afternoon.

His requests for hug and kiss were met with a stern 'No'. She didn't want to sit next to him at teatime.

An hour later I'm listening to squeals of delight as the two of them bounce on the bed, run giggling from room to room. Every once in a while I hear her busy little feet running towards me and her beaming smile appears at the door as if to check I'm listening. There's lots of chatter as they get pyjamas on and theoretically calm down for bedtime.

It's gorgeous!
Funny how the best quiet moments for me are the ones when the house is filled with noise.