Small Things

Yesterday was one of THOSE days. Benjamin seemed to whine from the moment he got up until the moment he went to sleep that night. I went through the list: hungry? Fed him some more. Tick that one off. Hot? I got out his pool and let him play in the water. Tick. Bored? Gave him a change of scenery. Tick. Teething? I used teething gel, herbal spray for teething and later pain relief syrup. Tick that one off too. WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!?! But still he whined. Need a cuddle? Some time with me? Some water? A sleep? When I did try to put him to sleep, he refused. Point blank. An hour and a half later I tried a drive in the car. Phew. He fell asleep....only to wake up shortly after the car stopped!

It’s on these days that I feel like walking away. Just for a while. I feel like saying, “That’s it; I’m going for some time out! See you later!” Only thing is....I’m IT. I can’t leave. And so breathing deeply to stay calm, you carry on. Hour after hour. No wonder these days leave you exhausted and in need of a good coffee (my solution for any kind of hard situation!).

But then there are days like today. Right from this morning he was happy. And today has been FUN! We hung out at the park and swam in the sea, laughing together and enjoying each other. It’s these days that make THOSE days bearable. I (literally!) had tears in my eyes as I watched him contentedly play with his toys while I had my morning coffee...in peace. Small things. But if we don’t give thanks for the small things, we may not end up giving thanks at all.

Judge Not

This journey with my spirited baby has made me a lot less judgmental and a whole lot more determined to encourage other mothers. Motherhood is hard enough as it is. Add a spirited baby to the mix and it can be overwhelming. Benjamin does just not give up. I remember in the early days of trying to get him to go to sleep by himself, he could cry for an hour....and then I’d be the one to give in. He was unrelenting, and often he wore me down. Once again, I am thankful for my amazing husband. Without him, I would have given up many times.


I am in admiration of single mothers. How they do it by themselves if beyond me. I guess you do what you have to do. When Benjamin was a few months old, I was all for routine. A single mother I knew was bringing her baby up another way. I remember trying to offer her advice and thinking things would be better for her if she did it my way. How I wish I had kept my mouth shut and rather told her she was doing an amazing job. Thank goodness she is still in my life. And I’m able to tell her now. Her son is gorgeous and happy and she has done it all by herself!


My goal is to be quick to encourage at all times...even when you think things would be easier for them if they were to do things another way. I don’t think it is my place to offer advice when it is not asked for. In the long run, methods are unimportant. That the child is loved and cared for is what IS important. I encourage you to be an encourager. You might just give someone the courage they need for the day.
Check out my Hall of Amazing Mothers (the photos below in case you were wondering!)



More photos to come...

Hear my heart

Just a quick note to say that in writing this blog, I never want to sound negative about having a spirited baby. Those who know me well know that this is not the case. I absolutely adore my son and wouldn't change a thing about him. But I want to be real about the challenges I face and in doing so, encourage mums and let them them know it's ok to feel overwhelmed, angry, frustrated or stressed out sometimes.

So hear my heart. And keep reading and commenting! It's so great we can do this journey together.

I'm supposed to be enjoying this?

To be quite honest, I think I’ve only really started to enjoy Benjamin in the last couple of months. It’s when you stop worrying about the “right” way to do things and what your baby is “supposed” to be doing at this age that you actually have some freedom to enjoy them. And why is there so much emphasis on sleeping anyway? I read an article all about this ill-directed focus. Our babies can be smiling, babbling, rolling over, finding their feet or starting to crawl and we fail to celebrate because they’re not a good sleeper. What about all the other wonderful things they’re doing?

I needed a focus shift. And gradually I learned to do this, to celebrate my son and the wonderful achievements he was making. Because of his persistent and strong-willed nature, he has sat, crawled and pulled himself up early. I’m so proud of him. Each day he is standing by himself a little longer and soon he’ll be walking. It’s these things that I focus on. Yes, he is still a challenge. A daily, no, actually moment by moment, challenge but I am learning to appreciate who he is. He is special. He is mine.

The battles continue

I’d like to say everything was rosy and lovely from then on but Benjamin was still a spirited baby. At 6 months he was as far from sleeping more than 4 hours at night as he’d ever been. Getting him off to sleep was no longer a problem. Keeping him asleep was.

For the first 6 to 7 months of Benjamin’s life, I used to dread the question “How is his sleeping?” Somehow it felt like I had failed and had got something wrong. There’d be one of three responses to my reply: another “helpful” tip or sure-to-work method; a “you must be doing something wrong” look coupled with an awkward silence; or a sympathetic “I’ve been there” look and a dose of ‘it will get better” encouragement. Sadly the last response was most rare.

Nearing the end of his sixth month, my husband and I (thank goodness for him!) managed to get Benjamin consistently sleeping 7 to 8 hours a night. Taking the advice of a nurse, we left Benjamin to cry at night, checking in on him at regular intervals. The nurse said it would take four to seven nights. I remember thinking “You don’t know my son”. And I was right. It took over three weeks!! Close to four actually. It was hell for me having to listen to son crying. But we persisted (I’m pretty persistent too...wonder where Benjamin gets it from?) and finally we had breakthrough.

Then we dared to go away over Christmas. And the night waking began again. Maybe it was the heat, maybe the strange house. Who knows? But had I vowed never to put me and my son through the crying thing again and so I found myself feeding him several times a night again. Give him an inch...you know the rest.

For another two or so months this continued. I hoped and prayed he would stop waking by himself. Spirited babies don’t often just stop doing things they like. And unless I still wanted to be feeding him several times a night for the next year, I decided to do something about it. Thankfully this time it only took a few nights.

So by nine months I managed to get him to sleep as long as some babies do at two or three months. But that is something I don’t like to think about : )

Then we came home

Once we were at home, I expected things to settle down nicely. A good friend that had visited me at the post-natal care place had given me some advice on how to put my baby in a routine. Routine! That must be the “right” way then if that was what had worked for my friend, who was at the time, an awesome mother of three children. But then the battles with Benjamin began. These battles were, in some form or another, to

be a part of my daily life. Benjamin was a very persistent, determined and strong-willed baby. A spirited baby.

I battled to get him to sleep. I wanted him to be able to settle himself to sleep from an early age. He cried a lot. My midwife advised we see a paediatrician. I had my suspicions that nothing was actually wrong with him. But we went and were prescribed some drugs for reflux. We never actually managed to get any of the medicine down his throat. What Benjamin doesn’t want to eat, he won’t...unless it’s very cleverly disguised (something I’ve become an expert at!).

For 5 months I battled, taking lots of advice along the way from books, help lines, the internet and well-meaning mothers. I tried every trick in the book, did everything “right” (there’s that word again) and still Benjamin took cat naps during the day and woke at least 3 times a night. I was stressed and not enjoying motherhood, let alone my gorgeous baby. I’m pretty sure I was mildly post-natally depressed too, although I was never diagnosed. Close friends and family worried a lot about me during that time.

At about 5 and a half months, things began to settle down a little, quite unexpectedly and without me doing anything differently. Imagine how much more I would have enjoyed the journey if had just enjoyed my baby and gone with the flow a bit more until he settled down. Retrospect is fine and dandy...but it doesn’t change a thing. Bottom line is I’ve learned a heck of a lot and can now be grateful for being able to walk through it all.

A little history

Things didn’t go the way I thought they would right from the start.

My pregnancy was as close to perfect as you get: I had hardly any morning sickness, I didn’t put on any excess weight, I walked or swam at least three times a week throughout it, I ate really well and avoided all the foods the books say you should and didn’t feel that tired (even when my iron level was next to nothing!). Based on this, my labour was going to be pretty straight forward...and as natural as possible. Even my midwife agreed that she foresaw no problems.

So when my labour was far from straight forward, I got quite a shock. In fact, I was pretty much traumatised for a good few of days after it. After 24 hours of established labour, I was still only about 4 centimetres dilated and things were just not progressing. Another few hours later, now at the hospital, the contractions were getting so big, I wanted to push. But I was only 5cm dilated. My midwife decided on an epidural. I readily agreed. Goodbye natural birth. Now days the “ideal” (I hate that word in this journey of motherhood) birth is natural. Shock number one: me, Perfect Penny, who’d done everything right in pregnancy, was not going to be one of those women who “did it”!

Anyway, back to my labour story. A number of other things were going well. I have no idea what order these things happened in so here they are, in no particular order: I still wasn’t dilating so they decided to break my waters and when this still didn’t move things along, they induced me. My baby’s heart rate was fluctuating and had to be monitored with a little hook in the skin of his head. If I lay in certain positions, he would get distressed. Hours later I was still not dilated enough to push so a doctor was called in and had to push my cervix open (thank goodness for the epidural!). I started to push and still my baby would not come down the birth canal. My midwife then said I could push all night and still not get this baby out. She suspected the cord was around his neck, which turned out to be right.

So then out come the ventouse (suction instrument). I nearly had a heart attack when I saw the machine. The last bit was a blur and before I knew it, Benjamin was born. Healthy, with a bit of a cone head from the suction. But it wasn’t over. With my legs literally shaking in the stirrups, I had to endure another 40 minutes of stitching for my second degree tear.

Yes, it could have been a lot worse. But for me, this was pretty bad. And very far from ideal.

Things didn’t go the way I thought they would right from the start.