Making clothes last longer

Having been inspired by the amazing work of Disney over at Ruffles and Stuff, I decided to have a go at making Daughter's clothes last longer. Because this is a crafty sort of post, I originally put it on my other blog, however, it's a baby thing too so have decided to repost here.

I love the fabric of this little suit - it really appeals to the day-dreamy side of me, all castles turning into hats and cloud elephants and such.

To keep it wearable I needed to increase the length, and did so - weirdly - by cutting bits off.I trimmed away the bottom fastenings and the sleeves to create...

...this. Because the fabric is a stretch jersey, I could have just left this as it is and the little t-shirt wouldn't have frayed, but as I had some  lace, I decided to add this to the edges to neaten things up...

Hooray!

So there you go. If you like this tutorial, then please let me know.I've got other ideas for stretching out the wear of baby clothes, and I'd love to share them if you're interested.

Do you have any suggestions for how to make clothes last?

Baby baking ideas

Daughter has been getting up at 5am for the last few weeks - something I'm keen to put an end to, if only so I don't have to read Norman the Slug with the Silly Shell seven hundred times before breakfast.

Keeping a little person occupied throughout such a long day has been something of a struggle. Naturally, we have a few trips to the library, play at watering the flowers, and on Thursdays, Daughter goes to creche while I visit the PND group run by Suffolk MIND.

The other day though, I ran out of things to occupy her with and the little toot was getting fractious in the heat. Cue the baking.

Trying to build on her new skill of putting pasta into the saucepan from the jar (without eating it in transit), I melted some dark chocolate and got her to add some cereal we had lying around (Aldi's 'Benefit' flakes). As she stirred, I threw in some powdered coconut, some raisins and some honey to sweeten.

We scooped the mixture into some silicon moulds and then sprinkled some edible glitter on top. They looked gorgeous and tasted really good too.

I would recommend using rice crispies rather than flakes as Daughter found them hard to bite, despite her spectacular front teeth. Which she's learned to grind and make horrific noises with...

Just thought I'd share a rainy (or sunny!) day activity that even the tiniest of people can take part in :)

 

Post Natal Depression

Ah yes, Christmas. A period of sustained inactivity in which I hand all the responsibilities I can over to Mum and take up some epic fantasy game or another. I tend to play until it's late enough that I actually believe I'm riding around on horseback, swinging an enormous sword.
When I was little, I would walk home from my Primary School through a park. Alongside the path that I would take were two boulders. I don't know why they were there - I presume that when the park was levelled, someone found them and set them to one side, intending to move them and then never getting round to it. I doubt they were there for aesthetic reasons in any case.
I would stand on the flatter of the two rocks, flicking my hair in an attempt to make it blow in the wind. I'm not sure where I learned about romantic-wind-swept hair from, being as how I was only about six years old, but there you have it. Somehow the whole illusion hinged on the impossible task of getting my mullet-like 'do' to flutter majestically. Pirates of Dark Water or Prince Valiant is probably to blame. Anyway, on that rock I would pretend to be a great warrior looking out across a stormy sea with an army behind me. Again, I can only imagine that late 80s/early 90s cartoons are responsible*.
Even back then, my imagination had an enormous sword and an inflated sense of responsibility. I remember feeling overwhelmed and frightened, yet strangely resolute as I thought of my current - always fleeting - invented task at hand.
I have Post Natal Depression. It's not something I'd planned to write about but I feel that I've made my current state conspicuous by my absence. And in said current state, I feel that same mixture of horror and resolution that I would subject myself and my imaginary sword to whilst on that rock, all those years ago.
I think my current penchant for fantasy games stems from that - this would, after all, be a damn sight easier if I had a sword in hand, rather than a packet of innocuously named Citalopram and a PS3 controller. I told my (amazing) friends about my condition and asked that we didn't bring it up. They all offered a shoulder regardless and left the ball in my court. I guess this is my cowardly way of not only saying "thanks" but offering something more of an insight into why I might not be acting like myself.
Any eloquence I might once have had has left me, but as always, the internet has provided a voice in the form of Hyperbole and a Half. I laughed and cried in equal measures when I read this because it sums the whole ludicrous situation up perfectly. I'm yet to have an "I'll rent a horror movie" epiphany, but I have taken to defying road signs - venturing down all lanes with "Road Closed" markers in a small effort to rebel. It's a form of self destruction. Since I can't drink I have to do something.
_________
*I didn't get on with most girls - they wanted to play "Mummies and Daddies" whilst I wanted to play "Mummies", referring to the ancient Egyptian variety. When we did manage to settle on a Disney film to re-enact, I would inevitably volunteer to be the villain, because they were at least interesting and I wouldn't have to fight with the others over who got to be Princess-Whatever.

Catching up

Where should I start?

A visit to the inlaws has put me behind in my posting, and as sod's law is universal, loads of interesting things happened during the interim.

Daughter slept through last night. But that long-awaited peace came at a heavy price. My little girl is now old enough to sleep in her own room! Having her in with us meant that every time we moved on our creaky old bed, Daughter was woken in her cot. And co-sleeping didn't work, because if I'm next to her, all she wants is milk.

In fact, it was on our way home when we stopped off overnight that I made the decision to move the cot out from beside our bed. Only twin rooms were available and there were no spare cots. This meant a night of hell for me - I only got three hours of sleep as I was milked for all I was worth! Every little noise from Husband across the room woke her too so as soon as we got back, I bought a baby monitor and some more bottles. Now, we're about to go into night three sans boob, and night two of own bedroom.

The Sleep Challenge thing I've been harking on about has worked a treat. I'm now trying to be consistent with how naptimes happen. Though I'm not setting specific nap times, I am reading a story or singing a song before sleep and so far it seems to be working.

Anyway, the baby monitor says that there is stirring in the other room. I will leave you until next time.

Joy

The last few days with Daughter have been a real joy. My siblings were here and as a result, my little girl has enjoyed being the centre of attention. We've had so, so much fun.

Daughter has been experimenting with happy noises - much to our delight - and getting much better at going to bed. I've found that the less I think about parenting and the more time I spend pulling silly faces, the easier life is.

So that's my goal - forget all about milestones, all about books, sleeping regularly, getting 'enough' sleep etc. As my wise mother told me, if Daughter is tired she'll sleep, regardless of where she is.

It is really hard to stop thinking about what she should be doing by which age when you're bombarded with messages telling you which formula your child should have at which age, which weaning foods are suitable etc. But today, Daughter stole toasted tea cake from my plate in a cafe and munched it without batting an eyelid. She picked up the food, put it in her mouth, chewed and swallowed. We promptly bought her some rusks after that, despite their 7+ month age-tag.

Even if I don't get enough sleep at night, I'm just going to zonk out during the day, even if it means I won't get everything done.

I know I swore I'd rip up the books before, but the 'information' about how you should raise your child is so structured into every aspect of our society that it's impossible to block out completely. I'll do my best to take it all with a pinch of salt from now on, now that I've seen how fun things are when you don't worry.

Jabs

At eleven o'clock today, Daughter will be going for her second round of jabs. She should have had these months ago, but due to the house move and an upset tummy, I postponed it until now.

I was wracked with terrible guilt after her first course of injections. Just before the needle went in, my little girl looked up at me and offered the biggest smile she'd ever given. Then there was a look of horror and then the screaming started. I felt as though I'd betrayed that big cheesy grin.

I know she won't remember this - I don't remember my immunisations, after all. I still feel pretty mean though, getting her up from a nice long nap, offering a bottle and a snuggle and then presenting her for needle jabbing...

Urgh. Listen to me. I meant for this blog to be a place where I could talk about all the wonderful things that Daughter does, without boring my friends to bits and its become a dumping ground for every bitch and moan I ever had. I will endeavour to be more positive in future.

Over and out.

Avent

I really like my Avent bottles. Not only are they British made, but Daughter seemed to take really well to them. Except that the adapters on the Avent Classics warp in the microwave steriliser.

Trying to calm a hungry baby, and stop a bottle from leaking is not fun. Especially when you haven't been organised enough to keep a kettle full of tepid water (something I'm generally good at on account of my ten-a-day tea habit) and need to boil some fresh. You end up shaking the bottle to mix the formula and spray scalding hot milk all over yourself. Great.

So, after having just forked out for new Avent Classic bottles, I am going to have to fork out some more for the Avent Advanced.

Why not just take this opportunity to switch to the glass bottles I've spoken about before? Because doing so would result in me having to throw out all of the teats I've got an effectively start again. I wanted the glass so that I could be a little eco-friendly (and save myself some pennies instead of having to replace bottles all the time) and chucking out all the related paraphernalia to buy more doesn't accomplish this. Urgh.

I am so p*ssed off  at having had D-MER.I feel that between it, the house move and various other things, I have missed out on my daughter's early, snuggly days. All I can do now is race to catch up with her as she learns to do all kinds of exciting things and leaves me standing, longing for the cuddly feeds that I used to resent because I'd no idea  what was up with me.

New Born

We were out at the supermarket today and saw a couple with a crying new-born. The poor little thing was beside herself and it took me back.

Though Daughter does still 'go off on one' every so often, consciousness is no longer marked by an ear-splitting howl. It's amazing how, in less than five months, my child has changed so completely. People told me not to wish my time with her away, but I'm glad she's now so interested in her surroundings and is far more responsive.

I don't want to speak too soon after having put Daughter to bed, but things do seem to have become a bit easier. Slowly, by degrees, we are making some headway with sleeping. After doing the Johnson's Baby Sleep Challenge - which, I have to confess, has made me buy their night time bath - bedtime has become far, far less taxing. I still have to get up to (breast)feed twice during the night, but the timing of the last bottle of the day means that I can have a glass of wine, or a visit from Mr. Daniels with some ginger ale, every once in a while. And sometimes, after a day of screaming, a little tipple takes the edge off one's frayed nerves.

Christening

We are having Daughter christened. This is something that sits rather uncomfortably with me - not because I am against the idea, but because of the ramifications.

I don't know if I can be eloquent enough to explain my reservations but I will try.

I grew up in the church and used to love going to Sunday School - our church was a simple, white box sort of affair. It felt very homely and humble and honest. But a visit to the Vatican ruined church - and if I'm honest, Christianity - for me. It made me upset and angry that we had spent immeasurable money to build palaces for God's priests while people starved. I still believe in a loving deity, but I don't think said deity would approve of the sheer ... well, I don't know how to describe the Vatican. Ostentatious? Gold and black marble. The word Austere obviously wasn't in the artist's vocabulary. Don't get me wrong, it's glorious. But as far as deadly sins go, Greed springs to mind.

In any case. I think that we, as a species, are not able to comprehend what God is and what God wants. I know I said that I don't think They* would like us to spend money building palaces, but that's just my opinion.If they're omnipotent, how can we begin to imagine that we understand how they think/function?

But I digress. I worry about keeping the promises the Christening services involves. I know I can teach Daughter to love and be kind, but as I recall, you promise to bring the child up within the church, and I'm not sure I believe the church is the community I want to raise my child in. And I know thousands of people have their children Christened without intending to keep the promises they make on the day, but whether I believe in the ideology or not, people have still died for said ideology**. If I go into the service intending to brush aside the gravity of the oath I take, I make a mockery of everything those people died for.

But perhaps I'm over thinking this. Perhaps I can justify the ceremony by thinking of my own idea of God throughout. This throws up problems of its own though - how is my idea of God any better than that of the Christian faith?


This is exactly why I don't read philosophy. You start thinking about something trying to andwer a question, and end up with more questions.

So I make this promise here, because it will offend no one - I worry that I would offend my husband and friends were I to promise this on the day. I swear I will bring my daughter up to love, to believe and to question. I hope she will be able to form her own opinions in a sensible, reasonable way.

*I use 'They' in place of He/She.
**I'm referring to people having been killed for their beliefs, not to the farce that was the Crusades.

Nursery

I've always clamoured that I would never put my child into nursery. "What's the point in having kids if you're just going to pay other people to raise them," I have been known to say.

Only, I met Toddler's mum in the village today and went into Toddler's nursery with them. And Daughter just came to life as we walked through the door. They were singing and playing and she was laughing and straining to get out of her sling to get a better look.

I asked for some information about it all and whilst it does look like a great place for her to go - they grow food, cook it with the older kids, have a swimming pool, Spanish lessons and all kinds of musical fun - I still don't know if I'll be able to bring myself to take her there.

In my line of work, I don't earn a lot of money, so I would be working at a loss if I were to send her there full time. Part time might be viable though...

I just don't know. It would be good for her to socialise and for me to get away for a little while. Even if it's just to clean the house.

Heart vs head vs wallet. It's a 3 way battle - who will be victorious?

Avenue

I often forget about car boot sales. Ebay being as it is, you can get items shipped to your door for a fraction of the price that you'd pay in the shop and you can go hunting for them any time - day or night.

Only a car boot sale is better. You can pick up five glorious hardback books for less and a pound and not have to pay postage costs.

I stumbled upon 'The Year at Maple Hill Farm' for 20p and am so enamoured with the pictures that I'm going to get another copy, cut the best ones out and frame them to decorate my rather untidy nursery.

 

I also found The old car by Elisabeth Borchers (which amazon can not provide me with a picture of), and Bringing Down the Moon by Jonathan Emmett.

 

 

But bargain books aside. I'd forgotton about boot-sales as a way to save money. In recent years they've become nothing more than away to rid my home of clutter. As an avenue for making my dwindling maternity payments stretch further, I will be keeping an eye out for more sales!

Bargain!

So I bought a Maclaren Triumph pushchair from ebay the other day. For £25, it's proved to be the bargain of the decade!

I've been using a sling up until now, but Daughter is getting too heavy for long walks, especially if you need to have the nappy bag with you. Neat as mine it, it's still the size of what I'd call a weekend-away bag so lugging that around as well as the increasingly heavy baby is hard work.

We tested out the pram by having a walk around our local country park and Daughter loved it. Lots to look at, lots of fresh air and finally, after being on her back in our other pram, the chance to sit up whilst out and about. Nosy little girl loved every second of it.

I never imagined her sitting up. When we first took her home from the hospital, I never once imagined that the tiny little lady in my arms could be big enough to be struggling against her harness to sit forward.Just goes to show.

I still can't picture a complete night's sleep. The 29th of April was the last one I had, and as far as I can tell, will be the last one I ever have. Right now though, if I can't have quantity, I'm going for quality. Some yoga, some nice sleepy making tea and clean, line dried sheets should make for a deep, if short, snooze.

Speaking of which, I'm not wasting another minute of her being in bed. Night y'all!

Cabbage 2

I doubted, but once again, folk lore has served me well!

Behold! The boobs which have not fed and yet which do not feel like gala melons!

Hooray!

Yes, that's right. I managed to go the whole day without doing a booby feed and as a result I feel awesome. Well...

I would feel awesome, were it not for the fact that I'm also teaching Daughter to sleep in her own bed at nap time. I understand why it makes sense to do it now, but I'm also worried about missing out on her precious, tiny, cuddly phase where she can sprawl across me, chest to chest.

I know I'll probably be glad that I did this in a few years time when I can say to her, "It's bedtime, love, off you go," and not have a battle on my hands, but right now I feel a bit like I'm missing out. C'est la vie, eh? Can't have everything.

Net Mums

Oh lord. A forum.

I'm doomed.

In other news, it's blowing a gale here so me and Daughter are all bundled up against the elements. We were supposed to go to the doctors for a - rather late - immunisation, but they called to say that the nurse wasn't available and have rebooked us for a fortnight's time.

I'm glad on two counts - I'd have had to walk with an under dressed Daughter (really need some winter togs!), and Daughter is so constipated today that she is howling in pain as she strains to poop. The Internet has been supremely unhelpful and is full of smug mothers (who I will now call Smothers) whose only comments seem to be, 'breastfed babies don't get constipated'. Great. Thanks for that. What about the devilish formula feeders? Do we just deserve what we get?

Urgh.

Well, just called the Health Visitor. Apparently pre-mixed formula can cause poopage, as well as water and very diluted orange juice. So for anyone else out there with a constipated formula-fed babe, there are your answers. So, to the supermarket I go! Orange juice and pre-mixed formula here we come!

Cabbage

As I continue to cut down on breast feeds, I've found myself becoming increasingly uncomfortable. According to google, applying cabbage leaves to the boob is the answer so despite feeling like a total berk, I have resolved to give it a try.

Oh lord. Imagine what would happen if I got hit by a car.

The victim was a young woman with an obscene amount of keys and cabbage leaves stuffed down her bra. She may or may not have recently eaten her body weight in cheap knock-off Cadbury style buttons - Police have refused to comment.

In other news, Daughter seems to be getting the hang of this sleep thing (though now I've said that we'll be up all night!) so today I got to start reading The Other Hand by Chris Cleave and do some yoga to aid my hips, all while she was having a nap. I'm using the Yoga for Stress Relief DVD at the moment because it has a section specifically for sore hips, but I am also going to try Erin O'Brien's Complete Pregnancy Fitness when I'm feeling more energetic. I don't think I need the postnatal workout - and I know my husband won't participate - but I feel I should use the DVD since I bought it and barely touched it while I was carrying Daughter.

So yeah... more on how we progress tomorrow!

 

Body

After I'd finished watching the documentary I mentioned yesterday, iplayer recommended Cherry's Body Dilemmas which, as Daughter was still eating, I decided to indulge in.

I've not really got any issues with my body. I prefer clothes which hang better on athletic women - which is a shame because athletic is something I am certainly not! - but I don't think I need to hide myself away under a giant paper bag, or have surgery, or anything drastic like that. I could probably stand to eat fewer biscuits, but frankly, I find life too short for self-denial.

That a lot of women struggle with their figure after childbirth isn't something I can really relate to. My body just did the most awesome thing ever, and on the one occasion I did get a little sad, I just went to make Daughter laugh and suddenly the fact that my waist wasn't as little as once it was didn't matter in the slightest.

My body has served me well. It has created the most amazing little person ever and how could I ever hate it for aesthetic reasons after that?

To teething though. The amber necklace that I ordered for Daughter has arrived, as has her little rubber toothbrush, and whilst I'm not brave enough to let her sleep in the amber, it seems to be making her more comfortable during the day - thus allowing me to catch up on sleep we miss at night. Also, the brush is a HUGE success. She LOVES chewing it and I'd recommend one for any parent with a teething tot!

Motherhood

From the Bible to the popular song,
There's one theme that we find right along.
Of all ideals they hail as good,
The most sublime is Motherhood.
-- Tom Lehrer's 'Oedipus Rex'

Slightly out of  context, but Motherhood is generally seen as one of the most holy, precious concepts in the world. It's quite a tough thing then, to watch the BBC documentary* presented by Jamelia Davis, which deals with the way in which single mothers have been stigmatised over the years. From the workhouse, through the 50s and 60s to the present day, this very touching little film is well worth watching and is available for those in the UK until the 13th Sept.

It got me to thinking about how I would feel in each of the situations it dealt with. Could I have  gone into the workhouse knowing that I would have been separated from Daughter? Probably not.I would probably have tried to do something - anything - else. Could I have been pressured by loving parents into giving up Daughter to secure a future for myself? That's harder.

The things that women have faced and the decisions they've made down the centuries have never been easy. I'm so glad that the worst I have to deal with is deciding whether to bottle or breastfeed!

*"Singer Jamelia Davis is a single mum and it isn't something she's proud of. But why? After all, millions of other women in Britain are in the same boat. Jamelia sets out to explore the source of her shame through the experiences of other single mums in the past. She begins in the Victorian workhouse, where unmarried mothers were deemed unfit to raise their own children. She discovers that even in the swinging sixties the stigma was still so great that many young women felt they had no choice but to give their babies up for adoption."

Bottles

As regular readers will know, bottles are a fairly big deal for me. It took me ages to talk myself into switching from breast to formula milk, and I wanted the easiest bottles to use out there. As a maker of preserves, I know about 100 different ways to sterilise glass jars so I thought I'd go down the route of glass bottles, however finding them is far harder than you might expect. None of my local shops had any whilst I was looking so in the end, I chose Avent because though they're owned by Philips, the bottles are still made in England. And whilst the plastic ones can be recycled when they come to the end of their - relatively short - life, its not as easy to do as with durable glass, which can just be taken down to the nearest supermarket and tossed in with the remnants of Mum and Dad's tipple from the previous evening.

As with all things, I should have checked online before making my purchase.  Born Free do a nice range,  as do Green to Grow. And if you're not a fan of buying from amazon, the nice, hippie-friendly company Spirit of Nature now sell the German brand Emil. Score.

As discussed in a previous post, I found breastfeeding really harsh on account of the D-MER which I suffered from. IF - and it's a giant 'if' - I were to ever brave labour again, I would  probably just bite the bullet straight off, stack up on some of the Emil bottles and go straight on the formula after baby had done with the colostrum. But, as I say, BIG if.

Consumer

I've never been much of a consumer. In fact, I go so far as to make my own tortillas.

Yeah, that's right. Tortillas.

I'm learning though, that with Daughter, saying no to things is much harder. Don't get me wrong, she's too young to be making spoilt little demands but I see things and think, 'Ooh, I could get that for her!' And then I do. With myself I see something, think, 'I could get that for me' and then talk myself out of it.

Today, I bought all kinds of little goodies because, 'they were on sale' and Daughter would 'grow into them'. Euch. Last time I do that. Not only did I come away from the supermarket £50 poorer, but since becoming a parent I seem to have triggered some kind of plastic magnet deep within me. Little plastic tubs to store food in, little plastic spoons to feed it with, plastic teething toys, plastic baths, plastic ... everything.

Well, it ends now. I can use regular Tupperware to store food in - it doesn't have to be tiny. The plastic spoons are soft, so fair enough, I guess... The toys will be sterilised and passed on, the bath will be filled with balls - which I will get second hand - when Daughter gets too big for it, then used as a wash basket, or planter, or... mop bucket even. Anything. Then it will get recycled or passed on.

I started talking to an awesome lady of motherslittlehelpers.co.uk and love the idea of a toy library. Will definitely be using that as Daughter gets older. And it's made me consider other areas too. Books can't be recycled in the same way as regular paper, so even though I can get them second hand without impacting too greatly, the normal library is a good way to go too. And I loved going as a kid - I could go and choose different books and take them home with me like treasures. It was fantastic.

Teething things

As promised, here is a list of interesting teething things I've found. In the end, after considering many options, I decided on a Baltic amber necklace from Dino Daisy, and a little teething toothbrush which Daughter can hold herself and chew on.

Other things I came across though include, the rather attractive Waldorf Maple Teether Natural Teething Ring because as previously stated, I'm really a big hippie and the wood appeals to my sense of 'natural is best'. I also thought about the Nuby Fun Keys Teether Ring because Daughter is fascinated by my car keys and I killed the previous key teether I had by trying to sterilise it.

Apparently gummy things don't sterilise well... I will let you know how I get on with my order when it arrives, and tell you whether or not the amber works. Apparently the Succinic acid in the amber is released by heat from the skin and has an analgesic effect. It's like a nicotine patch, I guess... I'm willing to try, in any case, despite being slightly sceptical*. If nothing else, I'll have a pretty amber bracelet at the end of this.


*For those looking for a well considered pinch of salt, I would recommend reading this page.