Woke up, got out of bed, dragged a comb across my head

This morning, Linnea opened my bra drawer and got a bra out and gave it to me. Then she said "What next?" and opened my knicker drawer and got a pair of knickers out and gave them to me. Then she said "What next?" and opened my tshirt drawer and got a vest top out and gave it to me. I hadn't planned to wear a pink vest today, but I am now wearing one with gratitude.

I tell you, Rob and I will regularly be having breakfast in bed by June.

I'm all squishy and melty now.

Um, what?

Early babies dubbed bed blockers.

Well, goodness me. Elective sections are bed blockers too. All those pesky sick people taking beds away from... sick people.

How can I make her behave?

This is a problem I cause for other people, I'm sure, but it bothers me more when other people cause it for me.

How can I expect Linnea to sit still when other kids are running around? Most relevant in bookshops and restaurants. So far, I don't; if I don't have the energy to chase her, I avoid like the plague places with running kids.

Everyone else has a chocolate biscuit and she has none. She's dairy intolerant. It's really very sad to see. So why shouldn't she sulk and stamp her feet?

Other kids grab her drink. But she's still not allowed to grab theirs. Should I just not care? Is there a point where I only enforce the standards of other people, in public places, and not my own?

I suppose the most irritating one is that her attention span is much longer than most of her peers', and I get annoyed when she plays with them and they flit from activity to activity - if it's just a pile of toys, it's not so bad, but if it's ten minutes' telly and 20 minutes' painting and 15 minutes' building blocks and so on, things that mean moving from room to room and doing prep and undoing prep, she ends up unsettled and sort of odd and unLinneaish.

This is just a whinge; I'll deal with it the way I deal with everything else parenting-related; I'll muddle through as best I can. But it's easier to parent in a bubble.

And much, much more tiring.

Menagerie

In the past fifteen minutes, Rob has been, on command, a giraffe, an elephant, a tiger, a ladybird and emphatically NOT a horse.

And people say babies are boring.

(The ladybird and his rider are now snoring loudly on a pile of cushions. They'll be overcome by giggles soon.)

Birth stuff again

Rob printed off one of the forms for applying for my medical records today; we're going to look at it later, possibly after a strong drink (I have tea with chili r1t3 n0w) and I'll help him fill it in. I am hoping that if he does the actual writing, the panic attack will be manageable.

He thinks, having read the form, that we may need to send four forms in - one for antenatal and postnatal care, one for the gynae care 8 months postnatally, one for the colo-rectal guy, and one for the dermatologist who specialises in vulvas (I wish I knew her real job title, I bet it's hilarious!) and possibly one for the partridge in the pear tree, and all.

Then we'll have all my notes, including the ones I've made for myself, and I might be able to do something with them. Write a huge essay for the Birth Trauma Association if nothing else. Find out if there's anything important about my current condition someone has forgotten to mention (I get stabbing pains every time I turn over in bed, presumably because my pelvic floor is so weak - I wonder if there's an explanation in there?) or see where the biggest holes in the story are and try to get them amended.

And write to the head of midwifery to explain what could easily be done to make sure it doesn't happen again, which probably mostly boils down to "remember your patients are people."

I'm reminding myself of this poem, which some people found triggering last time.

Consumerism

I want three of these.

Competitive parenting again

Posted to a breastfeeding community earlier today, where it was actually a relevant comment, believe it or not:

Ten points for exclusively breastfeeding from the breast for the first six months through AT LEAST two bouts of mastitis, two of drug-resistant ductal and surface thrush, both nipples chapped to bleeding point, tongue tie, GERD and severe dairy, wheat, soy, egg and hydrogen intolerance.

Lose a point if you only had six or more of the obstacles mentioned.

Lose two points if you only had five or fewer.

Lose three points if breastfeeding was easy.

Lose a point for every month during the first six when the baby was given a bottle of your own EBM, even if you were having chemo.

Lose two points for ditto if the milk was donated.

Lose your parenting license forever if it was formula.

Gain seven points for exclusively pumping for the first six months. Another point for every months after that you exclusively pumped UNLESS you vaccinated UNTIL 12 months.

Gain half a point for every pint of milk donated for free to a milk bank.

Lose a point for every time you went to NIP and chickened out because you thought someone would yell at you or try to send you to the bathroom.

Gain a point for every time you had state legislation changed to make NIP permissable whereever the mother otherwise has a right to be with her baby.