Winter jobs

Burning garden rubbish and toasting marshmallows - bliss.

Should I be proud of this?

My sister sent me a link to this quiz. It measure how you would fare as a 1930s wife.

8 As a 1930s wife, I am Very Poor (Failure) Take the test!

As you can see I failed. I think I'm glad I failed.

Poor Tom.

When you are 8

Hannah turned 8 today. I don't know where the years have gone. She made an untimely entrance into the world on the 18th June 2000. She wasn't due to make that entrance until the 4th September. Arriving 11 weeks premature is a rocky start, but she amazed us all. Breathing on her own from the beginning she was a pretty determined little thing. I only got to see her for a moment before they whipped her away to NICU (Neonatal Intensive Care Unit). The next time I saw her she looked so small and helpless lying in the incubator with tubes all over her tiny body, she only weighed 1120grams (about 2.5lbs). I thought my heart would break

There were a couple of scares, a heart murmer that they treated but then it opened again, a blood transfusion and endless drugs and treatments to keep her alive. She handled it all - we tried to handle it as best we could, needless to say it was an emotional and stressful time. The worst day was the day I was discharged and I had to leave the hospital without her. From then on we spent all day, every day with her. Sitting beside the incubator with our hands in the openings talking to her, stroking her gently and holding her tiny hands. Eventually we were allowed to hold her for short periods of time and then when she 'graduated' to a special care unit we were able to do normal things like feed and bath her, change nappies and dress her as she built up strength and put on weight. All this time I was expressing milk every 4 hours. I had the alarm set for 3am and Tom would bring me a cup of tea while I sat attached to the electric breast pump, thinking about the dairy cows down the road that were doing pretty much the same thing right now. It was hell, but it was worth it. Each day I'd take those precious containers of milk to the hospital where they kept a frozen supply of them and Hannah would be fed by gavage. Eventually she could have it from a bottle and then, one day, I was able to breastfeed her myself - that was cause for celebration. Nine weeks after she was born we got to bring her home, she weighed 2.5 kilos (5.5lbs), still not very big really.

We are so lucky that Hannah has had no medical problems as a result of her prematurity, it could have been very different. Lots of premature babies have ongoing lung disease, brain bleeds and many, many other physical, mental and developmental problems. Hannah is healthy, happy and energetic. But every time her birthday comes around I can't help but look at her and marvel at how she handled those early days, all the pain and discomfort she must have felt and yet she fought on and survived. She is an amazing child and I love her beyond words.

For her birthday she wanted a Nintendo (I had to ask my sisters what this was and get advice on what to buy). She also wanted her ears pierced. So after school we did this..

Uh oh, am I doing the right thing...?

Too late to change your mind now....brace yourself...

That hurt Mummy.

Of course the pain was momentary and she is now delighted with her sparkly studs. We came home to a slap up birthday dinner and the best ear healing medicine there is....chocolate mud cake.

Happy Birthday Hannah Bear!!

New and improved

Well hello there. Finally.... I have returned. I have optimistically titled this post 'new and improved' but really only time will tell. There is every possibility that this blog is just as old and crap as it always was so don't get your hopes up.

So what has happened since last I posted anything substantial? Well, first of all....winter came...we have had fog and rain and cold (I know you've missed my weather reports).

Then it got really cold....it was this cold this morning.

Brrrrr.

Apart from that it's just been me spending a couple of months stumbling around in a fog of melancholy and confusion. It seems that after quite a few years of having life a certain way I woke up and found that things had changed. They'd changed in a good way, but suddenly I had access to the person I used to be before I was a mother. Suddenly I had the time and space in my life to be the old me a bit more. Trouble was I couldn't remember who the old me really was or what I used to do (oh by the way, I'm still a mother - I haven't sold them on eBay, tempting as that might be). I won't go on about my recent experiences in this post but I can't promise I won't mention it again. Because it's been interesting (for me anyway) and as you know, the more trivial, self absorbed and inane a topic....the more I want to write about it. You're warned.

As well as not blogging, I've hardly even been reading my favourite blogs, so I'm now doing the rounds trying to catch up on everyone's posts - so you'll be finding a comment or two from me. I was reminded in an email from a blogging friend recently that one of the best things about doing this crazy blogging thing is the community that develops and the cyber friends you make (not to be confused with Cybermen - because they're just creepy and not that friendly). She's absolutely right. I didn't start this with that in mind, but it's been a bonus.

So I'm glad to be back, thank you to all of my cybermen cyber friends who commented supportively and also those who were supportive by email. I hope you don't live to regret it as I come crashing back into the blogosphere.

Photo credit BBC

Just getting all my ducks in a row...

..I'll be back soon.