Here Come the Girls

I’ve got my first night out with the local ‘new mums’ tomorrow night and I’m beside myself with fear. Well, fears actually. One - What to wear. And Two, How to cope drinking more than half a glass of wine.

I’ve had nightmares about being dressed like Beth Ditto and the night ending in a pub brawl that I start.

Help me Google! I asked, ‘What to wear on my first night out since having a baby’.

What I really didn’t need Google to do was hit back with pictures of Nicole Kidman, Jessica Alba and co on their first outings since having their babies. Have you seen them? Here’s a run down. They are dressed head to toe in fabulous designer (clean) clothes, have gorgeous, thick and bouncy hair and immaculate make up. Oh, and just in case you hadn't noticed, there's oodles of text on how quickly they snapped back to their quadruple zero figures immediately after giving birth.

Hmm. I can only guess that Google is still a bit sore that I called it a kill joy and this is its way of getting back at me.

I’m also having boob issues. OK, so I always have boob issues so there’s nothing unusual in itself there but this time it’s different. This time the issue is, what the hell are you up to, boobs? What bloody size are you and why is one of you bigger than the other? I’ve sent off for a dozen or so bras to try and reign these puppies in and hope to god they arrive in time; otherwise I’ll be spending the evening with my arms folded. Which means I’ll then need to drink through a straw and I recall from my dim and distant Uni days that you get drunk even more quickly if you drink through a straw.

Let me confide in you…..I’m actually terrified at the prospect of going out drinking. I can’t remember the last time I went out drinking. Sure, I’ve had a few glasses of champers at home with Google Daddy and friends since Google Baby has arrived, but I haven’t been out drinking for well over a year. One drink is enough to make me drunk. The Russian roulette game here being - what kind of drunk? A happy, chatty drunk or a hormonal, emotional drunk who will cry at the drop of a wine glass. Place your bets now!

Is it possible to fake drinking? Should I pop into the bar before hand and pay the barman/woman off so that every time I ask for a G&T they just give me the tonic?

I asked Google how to fake drinking and it came up with a whole host of ways to fake your age so you can drink. Somehow, I suspect the endless sleepless nights have addressed any concerns I may have had of looking underage. The only other help was from a pregnancy website that recommended the old ‘I’m on antibiotics’ trick.

But, the thing is, I’d quite like a drink. A. One. Singular. And afterwards, I’d like to have a nice cup of tea and go to bed. Ideally by 10pm. And then sleep solidly until 7am.

What a night that would be!

The Photo is from Ly Wylde's Photostream on Flickr

Snow, More Snow, and Google The Killjoy

Snow, snow, fabulous, fluffy, wonderful snow. It’s everywhere! You can’t see the pavement, the cars, the road, it’s almost covered houses.

There’s a snowman in the park that is over 8 foot tall.

Gawd, I love the snow.

Google Baby loves the snow. I have decided.

In fact, it seems everyone loves the snow. Everyone except Google, who is a great big fat killjoy.

Why?

Well, I wanted to take Google Baby out for his first foray into snow heaven. So I asked Google:

Can I take Google Baby tobogganing?

Can I roll Google Baby in the snow?

Can Google Baby build snowmen?

Can Google Baby play snow ball fights?

Can Google Baby make snow angels?

And Google said

No

No

No

No

No.

Pah.

Anyone would think Google Baby was only a few months old……

So, instead, we’ve watched the big flakes fall from the window where we also watched people slip and tumble and get hit by snowballs (*snigger*). Then we went for a very short walk so some flakes could fall on his eyelashes.

I took a disproportionate number of photos for the time we were actually outside, but it's snow and i just had to. Come on!! It's his first snowy day. And it's proper snow. Like the snow we used to have when I was a kid (gawd, I sound old...).

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow……

The photo is from ANarahari's photostream on Flickr

Happy New Year!

Happy New Year to one and all!

I know, I’m a bit late but punctuality has never been a strong point of mine.

Google Baby’s first Christmas was a ‘warms the cockles of your heart’ affair. It all started with the setting out of mince pies and a beer for Father Christmas and a carrot for Rudolph. Google Baby tried to eat the mince pie and Google Daddy drank the beer in front of Google Baby and bit the carrot. So much for mystery.

It was a full on family affair and Google Baby was spoilt rotten. Google Grannie left Google Baby’s first ever Christmas stocking on the edge of his cot. Cute.

I struggled to buy Google Baby a Christmas present. Well, I say struggled, I found lots and lots of gorgeous things to buy but, so excited was I at the prospect of Google Baby seeing and playing with the new toy or book, I gave them to him early. Which left me with the problem of having nothing to wrap up and give him on Christmas day.

So I asked Google, what do you buy the baby who has everything?

And the answer? Well, apparently, it’s all about designer baby carriers.

For just over $700, you can get a Gucci baby carrier.

Expensive, yes, but, according to the website ‘for the price and possession of your life, you shouldn’t buy less than the best!’ Quite!

Not special enough? Then check out the Golden Papoose by Bill Amberg. A limited edition of 10 (are there really 10 people in the world insane enough to want to buy it?) It is, apparently, ‘A golden porter for a priceless ride.’ All for the bargain price of $1100.

Did Google Baby get one? Not a chance! In fact, his favourite present was the curly-wurly colourful ribbon on the present from his Auntie. So next year, he’ll be getting a box of them.

Let Your Hair Down

Where Has All My Hair Gone?

I’ve never been blessed with Good Hair. Every day is an average to bad hair day for me.

My parents both have (well, once upon a time had) jet black hair.

Google Grannie’s hair is thick and bouncy.

I was bald until I was about 2 years old and then had wispy thin blonde hair which gradually evolved into wispy thin mousey brown hair.

Yuk.

On the bright side, I benefit from only having to have my legs waxed every 8 weeks, so long does it take for the thin wispy leg hairs to make an appearance.

When I was pregnant with Google Baby, I was beside myself with excitement and anticipation for the day I woke with the promised thick and bouncy pregnancy hair.

Alas, that day never arrived.

So imagine my utter horror and dismay when, a few weeks ago when I was washing my hair, rather than suds floating to the floor, clumps of hair began their merry descent down the plug hole.

AAAAAARRRGGGGHHHHH!!!

This went on, every shower time, for nearly two weeks.

Google! Help!

Google directed me to the inventor of the phrase ‘Bad Hair Day’ Philip Kingsley. Philip is no lowly hairdresser. Tch! The very thought! Phil is a Trichologist. Described by the New York Times as ’The Hair Guru’, US Vogue as ’The Hair Wizard’ and the Sunday Times as ’The Hair Doctor’, I had a feeling that Google had come up trumps with this guy.

The lovely Philip tells me that post partum or post natal alopecia is an example of telogen effluvium. Of course, I thought. Bloody telogen effluvium!

Apparently, it happens to 50% of new mums. Oh lucky, lucky me. But Philip was quick to reassure me that the hair will grow back. All I need to do is wash and condition my hair with his products. What a relief (and a coincidence!).

And if it all doesn’t work? Ruby Warrington has an even better idea. Get my post partum ass down to Vicki Ullah’s Wig Boudoir at the Urban Spa, Harrods. Apparently, 2009 is all about faking it, dahhling!




Picture is from mt.MT.Mt’s photostream

Going Out Without Google Baby

How to Cope on your First Trip out Without Google Baby

OK, so we’ve established that heading out avec bébé is fraught with difficulties and requires military style organization. So, surely the answer is to occasionally call on Google Grannie to baby-sit and head out without Google Baby?

Just think, you can leisurely get ready, match your shoes and bag and try on five different outfits before rushing out of the house with gay abandonment. It’s all about YOU!

Bliss!

Except, back on Planet New Mummy, of course it isn’t. It’s still all about Google Baby.

Getting ready to go out without Google Baby takes just as long as it does going out with him. You and those new friends Preparation, Planning and Packing will need to hold a board meeting with Google Grannie. Matters to discuss include:

1. Here are the bottles (Do NOT under any circumstances say, ‘The bottles are in the fridge’. Google Grannie must be escorted into the kitchen where the fridge door is opened, said bottles are pointed to and Google Grannie is told ‘Here are the bottles’).
2. Here are the nappies. (see above)
3. Here are the wipes. (see above)
4. Here is the cream. (see above)
5. Here is the change mat.
6. Here is his favourite toy.
7. Here is his favourite book.
8. Here is his favourite CD.
9. Here is his room.
10. Here is the cot.
11. Here are his clothes.
12. Here is the bathroom.
13. Here is the bath.
14. Here is the organic, baby friendly, purer than the driven snow, bubble bath.
15. Here is his face cloth.
16. Here is his towel.
17. Here is the baby monitor.
18. Here is how you turn it on.
19. Run downstairs and tell me if you can hear me.
20. Can you hear me?
21. Can you hear me now?
22. Is it not working?
23. It’s not working!
24. Shall we go to the shops and buy another one.
25. What? Oh, right, yes, go on then. Switch it on at the mains on the wall.
26. That’s it. Is it working now?
27. Can you hear me? Good.
28. I’ll have my mobile with me at all times.
29. Call me now and check it’s working.
30. I’ll phone you when we get there so keep the phone with you AT ALL TIMES.
31. I’m going!
32. Bye, bye Google Baby.
33. We love you Google Baby.
34. Ahh, look at him. Isn’t he gorgeous?
35. OK, I’m going. I am.
36. I'm going. I'm gone.

37. I'll just give her a quick call.

Etc. etc. etc.

Get the picture??

So how do you cope with this separation anxiety?

I realized I actually seriously needed help when I turned to Google to ask ‘How to Cope with Separation Anxiety’ and found that all the answers related to managing your child’s separation anxiety when you are not with them, as opposed to my separation anxiety when I’m not with him.

Needless to say, he had a great evening with Google Grannie and didn’t even notice that I wasn’t there.

Hmm…..

Photo is from CuriousArt photostream on Flickr