Marrow Mountain

Our garden is not as tidy as it ought to be. It became neglected during my first pregnancy, compounded during the following couple of years of having Baby Badger and definitely not improved during pregnancy number two. I'm gradually clawing back during my current maternity leave, but I have at least got control over the edible garden. Or so I thought...

I knew I'd missed a few cucumbers in the greenhouse. They have a tendency to hide behind leaves. I wasn't expecting twenty-two of them. Likewise, I knew there were a few courgettes that should really be classed as marrows, but I was leaving them on the plant until I decided what I was going to do with them. There have grown somewhat, and the four largest of them probably now weigh more than my three year old. There's also a glut of knobbly beef tomatoes and cherry & baby plum tomatoes, but we'll have no problems getting through those, nor the big handful of runner beans.

Tonight's challenge is to track down recipes to use the marrows and cucumbers. Any suggestions would be gratefully received!

Time to build an ark

A few minutes ago I was feeding Badger Cub in bed, still in pyjamas after a particularly bad night's sleep, when the doorbell rang. I left a rather disgruntled baby behind to answer the door.

It was a middle aged man offering me religious pamphlets, I assume a Jehovah's Witness. I politely declined and he left.

As an aside, I wonder how long it is since they actually "turned" someone at the doorstep. I do acknowledge that part of their faith is to attempt to convert/save but surely it's time to evolve away from cold calling? Maybe evolution is the problem here...

Minutes after he left I kicked myself for not saying what I wanted to say.

Thousands are dying in Syria because they have the wrong bloodline; men, women and children coldly executed. Young girls are raped with bayonets in Africa. In our own country children are groomed and prostituted, and others are starved and malnourished either through poverty or in extreme cases intentionally by their own parents. At the same time we are destroying the planet in our relentless quest for resources.

Don't tell me it's part of the grand design. If there is a god and he (or she) allows this suffering then I want nothing to do with him. The human race seems to be out of control so he either needs to sort out the mess or wipe us all out and start again. Until that happens I'll carry on trying to raise my family with respect and do what I can for the rest of the world.

Image courtesy of Michelle Meiklejohn / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

No more zombies for me

Driving home from town today, I was thinking how motherhood has changed me. Of course, it could simply be that I'm a few years older, but without children I probably would not have the uncontrollable impulse to shout "Moo Cow!" every time we pass a herd.

Prior to Baby Badger I was pretty child-phobic but now they seem to flock to me... and I don't mind! (Most of my friends would fall over backwards in surprise at this.) I find myself playing with them at children's centres, keeping an eye out in case they tumble, worrying about their teeth when I see them toddling round with a bottle of Ribena.

Films, television shows and books that depict suffering of children, physically or mentally, would in the past have tugged at my heart strings but it would have passed as I knew it was fiction. Now I feel as though my heart is being wrenched from my chest.

It's not just my feelings about children that have changed though. I used to love a good gory horror story. I now cannot watch zombie films; struggle with anything horrific that could be possible under human nature, although interestingly I can cope with vampires and werewolves - obviously far enough removed from reality for me to cope.

I'm guessing the old me won't be coming back, but I don't think it's such a bad thing.

Image courtesy of dan / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Surfacing

Badger Cub is almost seven months old now, and pretty much the whole time I've felt as though I've been failing.

Most of the time I can cope with Badger Cub. Most of the time I can cope with Baby Badger. Most of the time I can't cope with both of them.

Baby Badger still does daycare Monday to Friday (three days in nursery, kept going so we don't lose the place for when I return to work) and a day with each set of grandparents (because they all enjoy it). I feel guilt that she's not at home with me, but also I feel as though Badger Cub should have the same amount of attention from me as she did. I also know that she has a much more fulfilling and varied experience not being stuck with me 24/7.

When I'm tired I lack patience, and when Baby Badger is tired she tends to play up. Not a good combination. Father Badger has been trying to encourage me at times, telling me when I've done well with her. He means well and it is nice to hear but it does highlight that it's the exception rather than the rule, which makes me feel a bit useless.

Father Badger was away today, so I had both for the day. Knowing that it would go more smoothly with activities planned, we headed off to Millets Farm Centre. We did bouncy castle, trampoline, space hoppers, the cupboard toilet with the blue water (oh yes, anything can be an adventure...), straw bale tunnel and bouncy castle again, all before lunch. The cafe was packed but, feeling like supermum, I negotiated the pensioners with a tray of drinks and sandwiches whilst pushing the buggy. Lunch was eaten with smiles and we made it out unscathed. After lunch we visited the farm animals, ran around the paddock and played on the swings. All without tears (apart from when she fell off the swing but we'll gloss over that one).

I've been drowning for a while but today, just for a while, I felt as though I was coming to the surface.

Flip the birdie

A random photo from earlier this month: this is what Badger Cub has to say to anyone that doesn't like breastfeeding in public...!