That was definitely the right decision.....Or was it?

It's a psychological minefield.  This whole business of being a parent - from conception to adulthood - is fraught with potential failure.  Or at least, the feeling that you've failed in some way. The feeling that you haven't done the best you could, that you should have tried harder, or made a different choice.  And it doesn't even have to be a big thing, even little choices end up being agonized over.  I remember sobbing and feeling like a terrible mother when I gave Chloe a dummy at 3 weeks old.  It isn't something I'm proud of, but I shouldn't have felt so ashamed about it either.  Of course, I can look back on it now and wonder how on earth it seemed such a big deal, but at the time...

I'm not sure if the internet is a help or a hinderance in this regard for parents today.  I've found it invaluable as a source of information but sometimes I feel like I need to tell myself, "Just.  step.  away.  from Google."  I mean, so far I've learned from Google that:

• According to the World Health Organization, babies should be exclusively breastfed for the first 6 months of their life.  No Problem. Chloe and I managed to muddle through some mild reflux and I proudly fed her only breastmilk until she was 6 months old.  Nothing to feel guilty about there, surely.  Except that I read this article the other day and apparently I have increased her risk of iron deficiency anaemia which is "known to be linked to irreversible adverse mental, motor or psychosocial outcomes." not to mention that I've potentially increased her risk of food allergies or coeliac disease.  Now, I'm not saying that the evidence in that article is definitive and 100% irrefutable.  I'm sure arguments are being made for both sides, and in fact there is a lot of information on this website that tells me that I did exactly the right thing for her, and the WHO is still recommending 6 months of exclusive breastfeeding.  But the seed of doubt is there now.   
• Babies are born with a "Virgin Gut".  This idea also supports the exclusive breastfeeding for 6 months recommendation.  I read about it.  It made sense to me.  It was one of the main reasons I didn't want to wean early or give any formula at all before 6 months.  I was quite proud of myself for maintaining her "virgin gut" and all the benefits that went along with that.  Oh, but then much later on I learned that those medications she was on for that reflux I mentioned earlier, not to mention the occasional use of Calpol, pretty much put paid to the idea that I had ever managed to maintain her gut in its "virgin" form.  So there go all those benefits out the window.
• The frequent use of Paracetamol products in children has been associated with an increased risk of asthma, hayfever and eczema at ages 6-7yrs.  So, that Calpol I mentioned above? Yup, you guessed it - potentially dropped the ball with that one too.  Now, the research doesn't prove that paracetamol use causes these conditions, just that its use has been associated with an increased incidence of them.  So about 6 years from now if Chloe develops any of these conditions, I won't know for sure that it was my fault, but I will wonder if it was.  
• According to the American Association of Paediatrics, children under 2 years should not watch any TV.  Apparently watching TV and other electronic media gets in the way of children exploring, playing, and interacting with parents and others - activities essential for encouraging learning and healthy physical and social development.  Ok, I'm not going to feel too bad about this one considering the fact that Chloe is relatively ambivalent about TV and we don't tend to have it on in the background too much.  If I'm honest, her ambivalence is probably the main reason we don't bother with it!  If she loved TV then I can see how it might be a tempting tool to provide some moments of peace to get some things done.  So I guess I really have her to thank for the fact that I don't have to feel too guilty about excessive TV watching (though really, according to the AAP, if I were an ideal parent I'd never have switched it on in the first place....)  This little nugget of information has managed to worm its way into my brain and now every time I switch on the TV to CBeebies for the odd 10mins I feel a twinge of guilt about it.  

You see how it is?  What it is like being a parent?  The constant anxiety and second-guessing about every single little choice you make?  Or is it just me?  Maybe I'm becoming excessively neurotic in my motherhood.  Who knows.  We haven't even touched on the psychological damage we can wreak!  Philip Larkin comes to mind:

This be the Verse

They fuck you up, your mum and dad.   

    They may not mean to, but they do.   

They fill you with the faults they had

    And add some extra, just for you.

But they were fucked up in their turn

    By fools in old-style hats and coats,   

Who half the time were soppy-stern

    And half at one another’s throats.

Man hands on misery to man.

    It deepens like a coastal shelf.

Get out as early as you can,

    And don’t have any kids yourself.

Lately it isn't just worrying about them once they're born.  Having had two miscarriages in a row, I now get to obsess over all the things I might have done wrong, and also figure out how on earth to not do anything that might potentially cause a problem the third time round.  I know statistically that it's still likely to have been a run of bad luck, that I didn't do anything wrong.  They were just the wrong combinations of genes that weren't meant to be and I couldn't have done anything to change that.  Knowing that, even believing that still doesn't remove the niggling doubts in the back of my head.  If I were to do it all right then  really, I shouldn't be drinking any caffeine because >200mg/day has been associated with an increased risk of miscarriage in early pregnancy, I shouldn't be taking Chloe anywhere she might be exposed to large groups of children in case she contracts Hand, Foot & Mouth Disease as it can increase your risk of miscarriage in early or late pregnancy (she did have it when I miscarried the first time), I should get the Swine Flu jab because contracting that increases your risk of miscarriage (except that there are claims that the vaccine can cause miscarriage....), I should definitely never eat eggs with a soft yolk or rare meat or most cheeses.  Oh, and alcohol - is that one glass of Champagne on a special occasion ok or not?  

So what do I do next time?  I don't even know when I should start trying to conceive.  The healthcare workers at the hospital say we can try after one normal period, and many websites seem to agree on this.  Then I read a few sites that claim I should be waiting 2-3 cycles before trying again.  So who is right?  What should we do?  I'm inclined to think that the advice we are getting from the hospital is good advice and just start trying again soon if we feel ready for it.  But that's what we did last time and it didn't turn out so well.  Was that because we tried too soon?  Was my uterus unprepared for another baby so soon?  Probably not but we'll never know.    

We will never know.  That is the crux of it.  We will never really know how much any of these choices that we make will have an effect.  The internet in all its glory as a fount of knowledge is a double-edged sword.  Sometimes ignorance is better.  If Chloe develops problems later on I will never know if it was just destined to be, or if it is in some small part due to a choice that I made years before.  The fact that I made the choices with the best intentions, based on the knowledge that was available at the time is some comfort.  But how much nicer it might have been to carry on in blissful ignorance all the while thinking that I definitely did the right thing?  

If things don't go well with the next pregnancy, as much as I might believe that I hadn't done anything wrong, as much as I may not believe some of the theories I've read out there, part of me will always wonder what might have happened if I had only made a slightly different choice.  That's the danger with knowing that there is a choice.  In reality, parents can't win.  The goalposts keep moving.  Perfection in parenting is unattainable.  All I can do is try to do my best but I need to accept that I will never be the best.  I will just have to keep trying to do the right thing, not that I even know what that is half the time.  I will worry and stress about all my choices, big or small, but in a way I'm glad that I am the kind of person.  That I care enough to agonize over even the little things in an attempt to be the best mother I can be for Chloe.  Even on a bad day, no matter how much I may feel that my ability as a parents is second-rate, I know that my love for her is not.   

Babychinos just aren't cutting it anymore.

So I'm in a different room from Chloe, somewhat indisposed.  Okay, okay, let's not beat around the bush, being a mother isn't glamorous so I'll just get this out there - I was sitting on the toilet.  I had the door open, cause really, closing the door on a toddler just isn't worth the hassle. Chloe was happily occupied in the kitchen rearranging the pot drawer.  Or so I thought.  Suddenly I realise it's quiet.  Then I hear her shimmy her way up onto a chair.  A moment of silence.  The scrape of a mug on a countertop.  The sound of liquid sloshing around accompanied by a loud "poooouuur".  I was out of that bathroom in a flash.  The tell-tale brown moustache told me all I needed to know.  The empty cafetiere and half-full coffee mug only served as confirmation.  To be honest, I was pretty impressed with her pouring accuracy.  She barely spilled anything.  Obviously the steamed milks aren't going to cut it when I next go to a cafe, she's gonna want the hard stuff!

Chloe giving me a play-by-play re-enactment, vocals included.

She's really growing up!

I looked at a picture of Chloe from the summer and I was startled to see how much she has changed in the last 6 months or so.  She's like a whole different little person now!  All the hair, all the curls (I love her curls), her ankles that used to be cankles, her height!  I know she's pretty petite for her age but still, how she has grown!

Hangin' in NYC with Auntie Kate last summer.

Our Little Pirate at 17 Months

A proper little person now!

She's just sooooooo cute.  Biased? Moi?  Who cares, she really is pretty damn cute even if I say so myself. Even more so as she's learning to communicate.  She's not overly verbose for a child her age but she certainly makes her wishes known.  She's also very bossy!  If she wants you to do something, or wants something that is out of reach, she will grab your hand and push it as far as she can towards whatever it is she wants.  She doesn't take No for an answer easily either.  She makes masterful use of her bottom lip, emotively pushing it outwards so there is no question that she is unhappy with the situation.  Unfortunately, far from evoking sympathy, it is just so funny that Alex and I burst out laughing whenever she does it.  So now she just does it for effect, managing to keep a straight face for about 2 seconds then bursts out into a big grin herself.  She's like her Mother, no poker face at all.

We started learning sign language a few months ago and she really took to that.  The signs for "where?" and "more" soon became firm favourites, closely followed by "dog" for some unknown reason.  She's recently started saying a few words, and I'd like to put it on record here that "mama" was most definitely her first proper word.  I win!

I know details like this are fairly mundane to anyone who isn't related to Chloe, so forgive me and feel to skip over my self-indulgence below, but I would like to record, for posterity's sake, her burgeoning repertoire of signs and words thus far:

Signs in regular use:

Eat (usually done as a very definite forceful sign and often accompanied by her physically turning my face to look at her so there can be no question of me not being aware of her immediate and desperate need for food), Drink, Where? Hot (also used for cold actually, so more of a "this has a distinct temperature" sign), More, Bird, Dog, Hat, Glasses, Toothbrush, Bath (also used whenever someone is in the bathroom or shower), Change (as in nappy), Clean, Car, Beard.

Now, I'm not sure these technically count as signs cause they aren't the proper ones, but she will nod her head for "yes", or shake it for "no" and she most definitely means it when she does it!

Words in regular use:

Mama, Dadda, Where? Mmmmmore! Up, Apple, Beeaa (for Pea or Pear), Woof, Baa (for sheep) and Pour (by far her favourite activity at the moment is pouring something into something else.  Anything.  Anywhere).

She's taking her time mastering the English language but time is passing by so quickly and she is growing up faster than I care for to be honest, so I'm in no rush.  She's getting heavier and heavier and it makes me so aware that eventually my days of carrying her will come to an end.  God, I'm tearing up just thinking about it.  I'm not sure if you'll be able to understand why that thought is so sad for me if you aren't a fellow sling-user but I'm going to miss being able to carry her so much.  I keep looking at her and thinking that before I know it she'll be a stroppy pre-teen and believe me, that scares the shit out of me!  I'm loving this age, just as I loved the stages before it and I'm sure I'll love the stages to come, even if I do miss these ones a little bit too.

She slept for 2hrs all snuggled up into me.  Of course I don't want it to end, but I know one day it will. 

Back to The Big Apple

At the end of the month I'm going to do something that I haven't done in a long time.  I'm going to take a break.  I'm getting on a plane and flying to New York.  On. My. Own.  For five days.  Half of me is giddy with the thought of it, the (m)other half of me is already worrying.  I mean, the longest Chloe and I have been apart is probably about 12 hours, and that's when we've been sleeping.  Waking hours apart?  Maybe six, possibly less.  So I'm bit worried how she will feel about it.  I keep telling myself she will be fine - Alex is here, Grandma & Grandad Eros will be here and she loves being with them, she'll be at home in her normal environment.  She'll be fine.  I just need to repeat that about a hundred times and I might start believing it.  The terrible wails and instant hitching sobs of "Mama....Mama.....Mama" when Alex tried to do the bedtime routine without me tonight didn't do anything to dull my fears about it.  Not sure what's going to happen when I'm not there to just step back in and help.  Maybe I'll have to do it via Skype.  I'm only half joking.  Seriously.

Why the break?  I guess I feel like I could do with one.  It's been a difficult month or so.  I spent the first half of December in a state of first-trimester hormonal exhaustion.  It was like nothing I had ever felt before when pregnant with Chloe and feeling that wiped out and trying to look after a very busy toddler was harder than I imagined it would be.  I'm very lucky to have a husband who helps me out so much cause I'd have been lost without him.  Likewise for my wonderful family who took over Christmas and made it fun and special when I didn't have the energy to do so myself.  This month hasn't started out very well, but it has been emotionally rather than physically draining. Unfortunately I've had a second miscarriage.  I don't quite know how I feel about it yet.  Sad and disappointed, obviously.  Worried?  Disheartened?  Scared? I'm not sure yet.  I know statistically this could just be a run of bad luck but that's little comfort.  It also seems vaguely unfair that when I next get pregnant I'll have to go through all that exhaustion and nausea again.  Hopefully next time we'll have something wonderful at the end to show for it all.   

So I think it'll be nice to have a little break.  Some "me" time.  Chloe is weaned now, so for the first time in over 2 years my body is my all own.  I shall be able to sit on an airplane and relax rather than pacing the aisles with a baby teetering on the edge of a boredom-induced meltdown.  I will, without undue fear of messy hand prints, wear clothes that require handwashing, or god-forbid, are dry-clean only! I can drink cups and cups and cups of coffee, I can even get a little bit drunk.  I can sleep in.  It's going to be amazing and just what I need right now.

Nothing is Insurmountable.

Chloe has become quite a little mountain goat.  Maybe it's our fault for saying that we hope she'll be a rock climber when she's older.  We should have known better.  When it comes to your children, never never tempt fate!  Notable ascents thus far (excuse the photo quality, some of them are cell phone pics - I didn't always have time to grab the camera!) :

She very deftly emptied all the bibs from her drawer, clambered up into it, stood up and found that she could conveniently access the hitherto inaccessible top drawer.  Note that the drawer she is standing on is the second from the bottom, not the bottom drawer.  Certainly looks like an accident waiting to happen to me!

Adults think that side tables are conveniently placed for resting cups of tea and the like.  Chloe thinks they are conveniently placed to climb on.  I guess we are both right. 

She climbed onto the green chair's footstool via a slight leg-up from the fireplace hearth.  Once atop the footstool she crossed over onto the chair, over its arm and onto the table.  The radiator, one of our few remaining and rapidly diminishing safe spots for coffee mugs and the like was rendered significantly less safe.  The photograph doesn't look too safe either....

Busted!

She has learned to pull herself up onto the dining chairs.  This in itself might not seem too much of a problem.  Unfortunately she has also figured out that she can push them anywhere she wants.  Add the two together and really, no kitchen counter is safe.  Our fruit bowl certainly isn't.  

At least I have evidence of her antics if we end up in A&E on a regular basis and people start getting suspicious!

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas!

Chloe's in the Festive Spirit.  Yes, she put it on herself and spent half the day with it on!

Vienna

We've recently arrived home from a week in Vienna visiting Chloe's Grandparents (well, half of them anyway!)    I was semi-dreading the journey over what with it being 7 hours of transit time due to a 3hour stop-over at Heathrow.  I had only just recovered from a horrendous stomach bug two days before - sincere apologies to Alex's cousin for repeatedly vomiting in his car for the 10 hour drive from Coventry to Edinburgh, but that's another story - and was still feeling fatigued. To improve matters, Alex came down with said bug on the day we were flying out, luckily he wasn't as badly affected as I had been but I'm sure it still wasn't fun for him.  Still, the journey was relatively uneventful and I am definitely glad we decided to fly with Austrian Airlines rather than Ryan air, even if it did mean a stop-over.  you'd have to pay me to fly with those budget airlines with a toddler in tow.  We arrived late Saturday evening and settled Chloe into bed then hit the sack ourselves. 

On Tuesday we went into town. I snapped this pic of Chloe, content in the Boba Carrier, a marked contrast to her opinion of the framed carrier Alex's parents used to use when they were kids!

content...

....and not so much.

We and made our way to the Haus des Meeres, an Aquarium built in a converted Nazi flak tower with a viewing platform at it's top, giving stunning views over Vienna. 

Around it's top is an art piece by Lawrence Wiener. A memorial against war and fascism, it reads "Smashed to Pieces...(In the Still of the Night)" in both English and German.

The aquarium was hot inside, and I mean hot!  Notice how Chloe is rocking her pink jeans and wife-beater look.

Ok, I know Spider Crabs are called Spider Crabs, and I suppose there had to be a reason for that but holy shit!  I would crap myself if I came across one of those babies in an underwater cave.  kinda hard to grasp scale here but these babies can reach 12ft from claw to claw!

Leaving terrifying crustaceans behind, autumn is a beautiful time to go for a walk in Vienna, the trees are beautiful shades of yellow and orange all around.  Chloe got to play in her first little pile of leaves.

Soon after, Uncle Mark also got to experience a first as well, Niece-wearing!

Chloe isn't so impressed with Mark's "pose"

In fact, there were lots of "firsts" on the holiday.  We spent one day in Oberlaa at the Thermal Baths and Chloe went swimming.  We weren't sure how it would go down with her but she loved it.  Suited up in her frilly swimsuit and arm floaties she was good to go.  She delighted in being thrown up in the air and splashing down into the pool, being thrown from one person to another, jumping off the side into our arms.  Really, she is quite fearless.  This brave streak could be bad as she gets older.  I might age prematurely.  Anyone who knows what my cousin Alexa was like as a child will know what I'm talking about!

On Friday I went into the centre of town to meet up with a Babywearing friend who recently moved to Vienna.  Spent a lovely morning having lattes and chattering about wraps, amongst other things.  Then to my great excitement (it obviously doesn't take much these days...) I went into my first wrap shop!  Did I manage not to buy one?  What do you think?

Stephansdom, the main Cathedral in Vienna

On our last day Chloe went round to visit a neighbour and met her first rabbit, a fearsome creature to be sure.

After she recovered we went for a walk in the Donau Park, home to the soaring Donau Tower, more beautiful foliage and a playground that Chloe decidedly did not want to play in. 

Hitching another ride with Uncle Mark

Ooh, is that a new wrap?

Yes, sitting on concrete is more fun than playing on swings.

Grandma & Grandpa Eros

After a stroll through the park we ascended the tower, had a walk around the viewing terrace, then had coffee and cake in the revolving restaurant.  Chloe definitely has a sweet tooth.

A lovely trip, which was almost topped off by being bumped up to Business Class (or the slightly less impressive sounding Flexible Economy Class as it was called) on the flight home, but not quite.  We were seated in front of the dividing curtain and got excited at the prospect of being given free food (remember the good old days when you never had to question if you'd be fed or not on a plane?), only to hear that "We will be operating a full meal service to our Flexible Economy passengers, which on this plane are those passengers seated in rows 1-5".  We were in row 6.