Judgement..

...is hard to avoid, when it comes to parenting. No matter how liberal, politically correct and pro-choice you are, when tiny, vulnerable little people are involved, it's hard not to feel outraged, or at least disapproving, of a lot of the things that you see.

I have to admit, I get upset and pissed off by a lot of the things I see every day here. Not that I expect everyone to be some sort of weirdo attachment parenting hippy (like some people might think I am...). But since becoming a mum myself, I've become a lot more sensitive to the fact that at least 75% of mums pushing buggies around town do so with a fag in one hand, that heavily pregnant women smoking are something I see pretty much every time I go out, that the majority of people in McDonalds during a weekday are mums with young kids, feeding 1 year olds Big Macs, that it's exteremely rare to see a mother even bottle nursing her baby-no matter how young, bottles are almost always propped up in the pram-and as for breastfeeding, well, I've never seen a single woman in this city do it, and when Mark mentioned the fact that I'm breastfeeding to the women he works with (almost all with their own kids), it was met with wrinkled up noses and a resounding 'eww, thats not for me...' I try to keep telling myself that everyone has a reason for the things they do, that maybe smoking is the only release they get in a stressful, difficult day, that maybe people did want to breastfeed and couldn't, that maybe the McDonalds is just a one off treat...but what really gets to me is that it's just the norm. In this area, or at least the more deprived parts of it (where I happen to live) most people with babies smoke, most women drink and smoke during pregnancy, most women never even attempt to breastfeed.... And I, judgementally, think it's pretty sad. Because I just can't find it in me to see how someone can smoke, when they must know it's endangering their unborn, or born, child. Because, honestly, it blows my mind that so, so many women can choose not to feed their baby what they must know is nutritionally far superior to anything else available (although I didn't realise until recently that people do still actually believe that formula is just as good, so that shows what I know). Because, to me, the idea of feeding a BigMac to a baby sends shivers down my spine.

But then I think how easy it would be for others to judge me-for having a baby without being financially stable, with a man I didn't know at all well when I got knocked up, for taking said baby to festivals and squats, for the glass of wine I had last night (and didn't finish, and managed to knock on the floor whilst writing this-it splashed all over her Moses Basket stand-how's that for terrible parenting), for having silly hair.... And it makes me paranoid, and confused, and very unsure. It's a fucking minefield, this whole parenting thing. Because the lines between every woman's right to choose what to do with their body, and their right to choose how they raise their children, and the rights of children to the best possible shot at good health seem pretty blurred. I know that the best thing to do is just worry about my baby, and assume that everyone else has a very good reason for the things they do-but it's easier said than done, to be honest. Still, if I'm going to keep my sanity and make friends with other mums around here, I'm going to have to learn to save my 'righteous anger' not for people who make different choices to me, but for a society that makes things fucking difficult for women all round.

Washout...

This summer is the definition of the word washout, and unfortunately the majority of summer events that we look forward to all year have been blighted by the torrential, almost continual, rain. I hate it so much, and we're not even in one of the many badly flooded areas. We have running water and electricity, all of our belongings are safe and dry and we live ont he top of a hill, so I shouldn't even be complaining, but it's just so shitty, waiting 8 months for summer and it simply not coming.

This weekend we went to the Moor Music Festival in Ilkley. Taking a 6 week old to a festival for 3 days was surprisingly easy, in some ways. We desperately wanted to go, because it's where we met-one year ago. Returning 12 months later with our baby was just such a brilliant, circular thing, and what a perfect anniversary celebration! Seriously, whudda thunk that our pilled up drunken tent frolicks last year would lead to a life of such domesticity, parenthood and real love and friendship. Not me, that's for sure, I was determined to make it just a 2 night stand............

But we went back with our baby, and we all had lots of fun, despite the fact that it rained for pretty much the entire time, and the mud was deep and sticky and everywhere. It was a very very different experience from last time-the weather, the lack of drugs and the minimal amount of alcohol, retiring to the tent at midnight, and basically being Mr and Mrs Responsible, but we did have fun, and I realised that, no, things are never going to be the same, but I can enjoy bits of my old life in a moderate, altered form, and it will still be good. Although I did get really upset on the last night when we left a fast asleep Cara with Hayley (who I totally trust with her) outside a tent for 10 minutes so we could have a dance together to some filthy dubstep, and some random lady came up to me wagging her finger asking where my baby was...and I became paranoid that everyone thought I was a terrible mother and sat outside crying for the rest of the evening....

Anyway, Cara seemed to thoroughly enjoy the experience, slept through most of it, and got ridiculous amounts of attention from everyone there. We bought some baby ear defenders for her, which are hilariously large and unbelievably cute, and meant that she became the youngest person ever to be dancing to High Pressure Soundsystem (in the sling, of course, she can't quite dance yet!). I didn't take the digicam cos I'm too paranoid about losing it, but I took a few photos on film that I'll get developed and put on CD soon-little baby in front of big sound system is very very cute.

I wonder if one day she'll just be embarassed by her childhood of festivals and dubstep and hip hop and sad old person music.....

Happy Birfday to me...

I turned 22 on Saturday. I had a much better day than expected. Went for a meal with a few good friends, Sat in the rare bit of sunshine in Meanwood Park and chilled for a while,

(I love this photo, there's something very special about 'bad boys' and babies... not that any of them are actually remotely bad boyish in reality)

We wandered in the woods, clear, lush and glistening from the recent floods. Liam educated us all about local history, and the dogs ran around madly. Cara slept happily in my purdy new mei tei whilst we walked.

And Mark, Cara and I ended the day with a chip butty and a bottle of beer in Hyde Park's evening sun. One beer between the two of us, how things have changed.......

All in all, a good day. Not nearly as raucous as previous birthdays, of course, but it's all good. And look what good taste in clothes my fella has-I adore this hoody, it's so very me.

21 was my most tumultuous year yet. 22 is going to be calmer in a lot of ways, but full of new things. lets see.

I love her so much it makes me want to cry

I've only really hit that stage in the last few days. I was scared that it was taking so long. But now my heart truly melts when I look at her.

The smiles help too...

Getting the hang of things

Gah, well I started to write a birth story about a week ago, but it got long long long, and things (well one little thing in particular!) sort of distracted me, so I don't know when it will get done. I really hope I do manage to do it whilst the memories are still sort of fresh-they're already fading, what with having to get used to looking after an ACTUAL PERSON 24/7...whew. It is, I must admit, rather hard. She is a lovely, lovely, super mellow baby, but the adjustment from complete freedom (or almost complete freedom, whilst pregnant) to complete lack of it has been a bit difficult for me, and there have been meltdowns a plenty. But I think I'm getting into the swing of it. Can't believe she's 4 weeks old tomorrow! Really quite scary, and a reminder to me to stop moping and enjoy her extreme little-ness (especially since I'm not really intending to have any more babies). The health visitor came and weighed her yesterday, she's 9lb 6! (7lb 12 at birth). I was so chuffed, the feeling that it's all my milk that is making her grow really helps with the baby blues cos goddamit, I'm keeping her alive! And growing her big! All with my own body, it is very satisfying. And it makes me resent the puddles that I wake up in constantly a little less....

Plus we have managed to get out and about plenty. Cara got to go to her first gig aged 2 weeks and 5 days-not bad! Kimya Dawson played an all ages baby friendly show at the Common Place, a radical social centre in town. It was a great evening, packed with people that I know who were all very keen to see the little (you know that you have made a place your home when you can go to a gig and chat easily with about half the people there). Kimya has an 11 month old girl called Panda, and we had a quick chat about babbies, which was nice because she is one of my favourite singers and she came up to talk to me-the advantages of having a wee one! It was such a good gig for a new mum, loads of her recent songs are about motherhood/pregnancy and I got a bit teary. Plus she played one early set specifically for babies, which was brilliant. Need to get hold of her baby album, Alphabutt, which she had sold out of the night before. Anyway, it was great, we watched music and chilled with many friends and well wishers, ate good vegan food, and my lovely elegant daughter did a projectile vomit with my boob in her mouth all over the floor. Lurrvely. Well, at least it was at the Common Place, where a bit of boob vomiting won't even raise an eyebrow and the floors all wipe (fairly) clean, rather than in the bank, where I had fed her earlier that day! Don't think they would have been quite so cool with it...

Couple of pics of the gig and us:

Anyway, I have been on the net plenty but not really felt able to post much anywhere (mostly cos I always have a baby on my arm drinking away), but will hopefully get back into it soon. I don't know what I do all day, because she really isn't as demanding as some babies, but it's just difficult to get back into a rythym (especially as I've never been the most motivated person). I desperately want to knit and sew and bake again, but I really feel like all I should be doing when not tending to her is housework. But it must be possible, so many of the amazing crafty women I 'know' on the internet are mamas, so I'm sure eventually I'll get it back, won't I? I did make these socks!:

They look good with this outfit (matching hat knitted many months ago when she was a wee bump):

Err, are we bad people for dressing our baby up for our own amusement...... (she was cool with it, honest!)