Manic August

So a crazy couple of weeks.

Number 3, a boy, arrived. On time... the first one that didn't have the mothers late gene and not appearing embarrassingly late.

This was also the day before Number 1's 5th birthday, and despite a fairly simple birth they kept both mother and child in overnight, as my wife's iron was a little low. PANIC!  All birthday plans had gone out the window although my Mother being a practical matronly woman already had a contingency plan up her sleeve.

Crisis averted Number 1 was able to celebrate her birthday party with the extended family and then the best present picking up her new brother (and Mummy) from the hospital.

After a lovely couple of weeks paternity leave i finally return to work to be put under consultation due to a company restructure. The threat of redundancy hanging over my head means even more sleepless nights than i'd have with a newborn anyway.

Hopefully when things settle down i can begin to put more time into this blog again.

A Spoonful of Sugar

We were on a short break last weekend on the outskirts of Weymouth when no2 comes down with a very high temperature and a series of rotten nappies. While she was a little clingy had it didn't really spoil to much and we were all able to enjoy a lovely time at thanks to a steady supply of Neurofen.  On returning home my wife took her to the local GP, convinced it was tonsillitis, our local GP couldn't make a clear diagnosis from an un-cooperative 2yo who refused to open her mouth, insisting her big sister should be at the doctors instead. A late night rush to the out of hours GP on Saturday finally confirmed that it was in fact a case of Mother knowing best as tonsillitis was diagnosed and antibiotics prescribed.

And that dear reader is where the problems began... 

On returning home from the late night chemist tired and ill, we decided to started the first course straight away. The first bottle prescribed proudly stated 'Sugar Free' and was a bright orange and smelt faintly of citrus. 'No2' took the syringe swallowed a tiny amount then pulled a face 

Ewww. No. That’s Gross. | Gifrific

The remaining 4ml we tried to hide in ice cream, jam, yogurt, jelly, we tried bribes, promise and reason... to no avail, all rejected to the point that she wouldn't trust us to even put her to bed for fear we'd trying and slip medicine in somewhere. In a final resort we tried to forcefully give it to her with a syringe, wrapping her up in a towel so she couldn't thrash around like a octopus trying to be put in a bag. The antibiotics went down for around 11 seconds before they were vomited back up, to bed she went tired and poorly with two frustrated parents.  "How bad can it be?" i asked the wife and tasted a tiny amount. After violently retching several times i vowed to called the Dr's first thing in the morning for something more palatable. 

The 2nd bottle of antibiotics also claimed to be sugar free, and looked more like the contents of a glow stick poured into a bottle, it too came with a taste which was more reminiscent battery acid. Mary Poppins rum punch flavour this most certainly was not... Again this was rejected out of hand by 'no2'. I turned to Facebook and twitter for help, and got several suggestions - Mash it in with Jam; 1/3rd of a jar was not enough to mask 5ml of the noxious florescent yellow stuff. I tried several other ways of trying to mask it, i tried to force it down but only ended up covering clothes and furniture, this was not going to work. 

I called the Dr and we spoke at length about the situation of trying to get Children to take foul tasting medicine, she agreed that it was a problem and suggested amoxicillin the banana flavoured antibiotics i remember from my childhood which while not being ideal might work, it's still not the nicest tasting medicine when it first came on the market 40 odd years ago now but it's still the only one that is adapted for children. 

'No2' is on the mend again, but this episode highlights a total lack of understanding from pharmaceutical giants that having an ill child is stressful enough without them rejecting the very thing supposed to make them feel better. That as parents we could not give a shit about our poor little monkeys teeth, about how much sugar is in the pediatric suspension, or how many e-numbers were put in to make it easier to take.  You can bet that if you could purchase the stuff over the counter they'd all be fighting it out to make them better tasting, more palatable and more appealing to Children. 

The NHS cannot absolve itself either, bad tasting medicine is a false economy i now have 3 bottles of antibiotics in my fridge, surely it would have been cheaper to give us one slightly more expensive bottle 'no2' would have been willing to take?  I know these medicines exist, one pharma' sales manager has already been in contact to say it's not kids medicine is not rocket science and that his company is producing chocolate & orange flavours. 

As for sugar helping the medicine going down, it certainly does, and as it's medicine our little darlings aren't going to be drinking it by the litre now are they? 

  

3 into 2

The Boy is due in August which seems ages away but i know will sneak up on us pretty quickly, so we're planning on putting the girls together in the same room from this weekend. Bunk beds are due to be delivered on Thursday, so swearing will be heard across the home counties from Saturday morning as i attempt to put them up.

And it's in a good time too, Number 2 has just started climbing out of her cot i say climbing out, more getting herself over the top of it and letting gravity do the damage on the way down. It's a thunk followed by a scared just under 2 year old crying...

The downside to them both going into one room beside having to decorate the nursery again, which has had much of it's wall paper peeled off around the cot... the little bloody ASBO monkey.  What concerns me the most is how badly it could go with them keeping each other up all night, or number 2 escaping and running amok.

Only the other morning did number 1 go downstairs to be greeted with a "hello... How are you?"  as number 2 helped herself to the breakfast cereal while Saturday we were woken by two child follow my leader/ conger line around the bed...

Any tips anyone?

Neglect...

This blog has almost been neglected for almost as long as my golf clubs.  Or if you want to over share as long as my sex life with my heavily pregnant wife

I'm amazing how people do it and keep it going...blogging that is

It's a full time thing for many, events, blogs, some of you guys are machines a blog post a day.  Do you not watch TV or anything?  I'm going to try and get back into the swing, but with longer evenings and being a little more financially solvent than i have been in a long while, it's nice to catch up with friends.

As work quietens down a little more i'm hopefully be able to get more involved in this blogging lark.

Reviews - Protect Yourself from Catching the Clap

I had my first approach from a PR agency this week.  I won't lie i was incredibly flattered that someone had read my stuff, stuck me on a mailing list and offered me something to review.

But it got me thinking. I started to look around some of the other parenting blogs recently and was surprised at how much PR material was posted up as content, of how many freebies were handed out from large multi-nationals all in the name of 'grass roots' coverage.

Everything from lingerie, toys, buggies even test driving family cars were dished out, and with it came fawning  reviews and 'look at me' tweets of piles of lots of lovely free stuff.  All gaining lots of coverage for the PR agency, who are paid tens of thousands of pounds for this, to push under the nose of their client.

I shouldn't really be surprised, after all I see it from the other side in my day job in Marketing. I spend millions a year searching and courting evangelists for my products, desperate to drive word of mouth to seemingly spring up and positively influence people.  So hopefully the following advice from a novice blogger might hold a little weight?

I'm going to start with a metaphor (technically i think it's a simile. Writing reviews and working with PR agencies is a bit like getting into bed with an attractive stranger... it might be fun but can also lead to catching an STD.

The single most important thing if you choose to review things on your blog is your audience. We marketing folk are not paying an agency lots of money to dish out products to bloggers to get a fawning review we're doing to to get access to your readers and your peers.

You might think that a positive review will get you into the good books with PR agencies, it probably will for a short period, until your readers realise you're nothing more than a stooge, a fraud that is writing positive things in return for free stuff.  That your reviews can't be trusted... Bad news that handsome stranger you were romping with has just given you the Clap.

What you'll see next is your visitor numbers dropping off to the point where the PR agency is no longer interested, you're too small time... you've trashed your own reputation, destroyed your following and burned your blog for a 2 nights stay at Pontins in Great Yarmouth. Was it worth it?  Sitt there with your antibiotics  staring at your mobile phone wondering why they stopped calling?

So to avoid this just follow these simple rules.  And please remember despite being an inexperienced blogger i've had 15 odd years of targeting people like you and me to write these reviews.

• Don't write for the PR agency write for your audience - your audience is interested in your experiences and thoughts not reading what you think a PR agency wants you to say 
• Write a Reviews Policy on your blog. Some of the best parenting blog have these, they explain your principles to both your audience and any potential suitors so there are no gray areas
• Don't be afraid to say what you think if it's the best product you have ever used say so.  Like wise if you didn't like it explain why. Many PR agencies and companies know their product isn't perfect, and honestly will hold no grudge should these be pointed out

...are there any others that people would like to add? Or you think i've missed off? 

Blue is the Colour. Being a Daddy is the game

So it's a boy.

We didn't want to know, we liked the idea of a surprise, but when offered with the chance to know during the scan we crumbled.  Like knowing you have to go home but are being offered one last drink in the pub, you know you'll be in trouble later, but it was on offer and you can't turn it down can you?

It could have been totally different, but for one little thing...

Number 1 has been incredibly excited about the whole thing she's told just about everyone at her school, so when my wife asked if she'd like to go to see the baby in Mummy's tummy at the hospital she jumped at the chance.

We turned up at the scan and were politely asked if we wanted to know towards the end the sex of the baby, my wife and i looked at each other and smiled and said "no, thanks".  "YES, YES... YES we do" came the shout from the up until then quiet as a mouse #1... it was the equivalent of the elbow nudge and "come on one more quick one" every man knows so well from being with friends in the pub.

A twinkle in my wife's eye said she was ready to accept that illicit drink.

"Shall we?"

and the die was cast...

"it's a Boy"

"Owwwwww...." grumped #1 wanting yet another sister

A few minutes later we're sitting in the waiting room waiting for Mummy to go to the toilet.

"So Daddy. Oscar is a nice name isn't it?"

I think I've created a monster.

Russian Roulette

We’re pregnant. Another bun is in the metaphorical oven.  My wife has wandered up duff street. She’s with Child. Whichever way I write this I’m still struggling to get my head around it. Normally this would be a time for excitement, to wish us well, to take joy in the fact of new life. So why do I feel like I've been kicked square in the ‘ gentleman's area’?  Why does this hat trick feel like I've scored at wrong end, two glorious wonder goals before haplessly slicing the ball past my own goalkeeper and into my net?

I expect zero sympathy from you dear reader, it was after all I (well ‘we’) who had all the pleasure of that night, not you. It was me that played Russian roulette with contraception and shot myself point blank in the head.

We’d always discussed a third child, I’m from a big family and we’d always liked the idea of a similar sized family to make things like Christmas and family gatherings that bit more vibrant and noisy. But we only moved into a larger house a couple of years ago, and I still haven’t even finished decorating a single room yet. I’d just be coming round to the idea of just having the two girls, of a faint hope that foreign holidays might be back in a few years’ time. Of sleep that lasts almost 6 hours at a time.  Dumping the kids of at the grand parents and whizzing off on a naughty weekend away with the wife.  I’d even toyed with the idea of taking up golf again or buying family season tickets at the Rugby or football.  All now firmly moved into the no bloody chance file.

So why am I struggling with the thought of having another? Am I selfish?  No probably not. it’s not really my life I worry about. The sex life apart, I don’t need anything of the above including the sleep, I’m one of those people that is eternally content with my lot.  That’s not to say I’m not ambitious I would love to have more money to give me more options in life, but I don’t strive to own more, bigger,  greater things.  I like things as they are. I’m happy.  

But the pressure is firmly on my shoulders. The girls are delighted about the thought of sharing a room, but how long will it last?  Money is tight now, how will it be when there is another little person?  Can we even afford for my wife not to work?  Would we be even better off if she still did? to We need to feed another mouth, to purchase a car to fit three car seats in, to eventually purchase a bigger house so all the kids have their own room while still making sure that it’s in an area that is best for their upbringing… And what the bloody hell will I call the blog if it turns out that number 3 is a boy?

I know I won’t resent number three for the sacrifices the whole family have to make? But I’d love to give the family the best chance in their lives and with that comes sacrifice from me.  Much of this pressure I feel is created by myself. So I’ve decided there is no time sitting around moping about the situation I find myself in, I’m lucky. This is a positive thing, I just need to convince myself of that.

 I’m off to find a new job… just as soon as I’ve booked in for a vasectomy.