Sunday, 28 March 2010

Squeaky On Tour

Against my better judgement, we took Squeaky to the in-laws on Friday. Packed up everything into the too-small car & set off. Strensham services surprised me by actually having a "Baby Care" room next door to the disabled loos, with a changing table, sink, and chair so Squeaky could have her lunch in privacy without me being sat on a slightly smelly toilet, as is often the case. Sadly, they should have made the sign on the outside of the door a bit bigger, and possibly added "THIS IS NOT A TOILET", because I was barged out of the way as I was leaving the room by a very rude older lady with a walking frame, and after I explained 3 times that there wasn't a toilet in that room, and showed her that it wasn't a toilet, I then got a mouthful from her. Err, excuse me? Did I design the place? Am I the one who doesn't bother to read or listen? Well then. Grrr.

Ignorant old ladies aside, the weekend went surprisingly well. Better than I anticipated. Squeaky was almost at her best behaved, though after a few hours of cuddles and cooing by various elderly aunties, she did demand dinner at the top of her little lungs. On the whole though, she was quiet and cute, and slept like a sleepy creature at night, my biggest concern. Knowing how much she sleeps in the car, I was fully expecting a whole night of screaming, shouting and general fussing, but she's getting the hang of the idea of bedtime is for sleeping, not playing, and she does settle pretty well. So now we have our holidays to look forward to, and I'm a little less apprehensive of going places in the future. Win for Squeaky, I think.

Sunday, 21 March 2010

An Outing

Today we went off to Cardiff Bay, so that Squeakydaddy could run the Sport Relief Mile (or three in his case, for some reason or other). I don't mind these kind of things, as long as no-one expects me to run. I wasn't built for running, and I don't really plan to start now, sorry.

Anyways, as usual with any trip out lasting more than a couple of hours, Squeaky needed both changing and feeding. And I was SO impressed. I knew that Cardiff Bay is "officially" breastfeeding friendly but wasn't sure what to expect. I strolled into the Millennium Centre, as being a suitably large & public building, and I didn't really fancy the disabled/baby change portaloo outside. Toilets are toilets, but these were clean and well sized, which is a good start.

After a quick nappy change, I asked the duty manager if there was somewhere I could feed Squeaky. Now, I've said before that I've fed in public in a few places, but I didn't expect to be told that I was welcome to feed anywhere in the building! I was also offered the choice of somewhere a bit more private, and shown to the medical suite, where Squeaky could have her dinner in peace. Much nicer than sitting on a toilet seat somewhere, which has been known.

All in all, ten out of ten for Cardiff Bay!

Wednesday, 17 March 2010

Breastfeeding. First post of... many?

So, as I said in the introduction, Squeaky is a breastfed baby. Aside from the cost, and the health reasons, I figure I've got boobs for a reason, and I might as well use them.

If anyone ever wonders about breastfeeding, I really have got to say, get all the support you can. Meet other mothers who are doing the same. Seriously, do NOT compare your dainty breastfed child with your friends' hulking great formula fed creature.

For some (unknown to me) reason, breastfeeding is very much a rarity around here, almost every child I see is formula fed, and next to Squeaky they're giants. The comment I get most (aside from "Isn't she gorgeous") when people meet Squeaky is "Isn't she TINY!" Yes, she is little. But that's because she's eating what she needs, and that's the way breastfed babies grow. She gains weight every week, the doctor & health visitor are happy with her, so am I.

I never thought I'd be confident enough to be the kind of person who would breastfeed wherever, but it goes to show what motherhood does. So far, Squeaky has had dinner out in 2 different supermarket cafes, a soft play centre, a couple of shopping centre toilets (one somewhat more pleasant than the other), and in the front seat of my car parked in supermarket, pub and McDonalds' car parks. She's not fussy. I'm not going to wave my naked boobs around at all & sundry, but I am going to feed my baby when she needs it. If other people have a problem with that, then that's exactly whose problem it is, theirs, not mine. So far though, I've had only positive reactions, people asking how I'm finding breastfeeding, and general baby questions. Oh, and one old guy getting a bit starey, but as Squeaky and bosom were both under a blanket, I don't understand what he found quite so interesting.

Tuesday, 16 March 2010

Stealth poop and daisies

Squeakybaby, daddy and I went to meet her great-grandma for the first time yesterday, thanks to a bit of subterfuge involving my aunt and a factory shopping outlet. We had a lovely meal and shopping trip, and Squeaky was at her well-behaved in public best, aside from one stinky nappy shortly after we arrived. Easily dealt with, and on with the day.

At some point during the hour-long journey home (and I suspect at the start) however, Squeaky did what I can only describe as a Stealth Poop. Honestly, this child doesn't see the need to share with me the fact that she's filled her nappy, and would rather sit in poop until I notice. Not a squeak out of her, and strangely, not a whiff out of the nappy. So by the time we got home, she'd been festering in her own filth for somewhere in the region of an hour, and her poor, delicate baby's bum was all red & sore. I've explained to her that she's better off telling me these things, because then she won't be sore again, but I don't hold out much hope.

I've turned into a bit of a tree-hugging hippy-mom. Aside from the breast-feeding (it's cheaper, it's easier, and I might as well get some use out of the jugs nature so kindly provided me with), we've been using some lovely nappy/boob/anything sore cream called Kamillosan that's chamomile based, rather than the horrible looking & smelling Sudocrem. Seems to work wonders too. The sore bum of yesterday is still looking a little pink, but it's drying out well, and aside from when she actually has a nappy change, she's forgotten all about it.

Does that mean my baby's dirty nappies really are full of flowers?

Monday, 15 March 2010

Welcome aboard the Squeakytrain.

OK, so this is the Squeakybaby blog. An introduction would be a good place to start.

I'm Squeakymom, proud mother to a (at the time of writing) 8 week old daughter. She's the Squeakybaby, obviously. As I start this blog, she's a breast fed creature, whose favourite pastimes are squeaking, filling her nappies, practising smiling, kicking the ball on her baby gym, and people-watching with an intensity I find hard to comprehend.

There's a couple of things I hope this blog will become, over the coming weeks/months/whatever. I hope to record & review my experiences of life with Squeaky, including places we go, businesses we visit, where is & isn't Squeaky-friendly from a real-life perspective, rather than a corporate aim. And I generally plan to babble. If any of my experiences or babblings are of any use to other parents, then I'll be made up. If not, then, at least I'll have had fun along the way.

Home, by the way, is in the South Wales Valleys. Most of my posts are likely to take place around here. Travelling is difficult at the moment.

Comments, questions and suggestions are more than welcome.