The land they claim

There is something that the elusive 'They' didn't tell me about motherhood. That, from the moment your child comes along, they take a flag with their name on, carve a rough boundary line around a chunk of your heart, and a corresponding chunk of your brain, and stake their claim.

Staking their claim in the brilliant / guilty pleasure
which is 'Far and Away'.

Having spoken to other mums, they have felt this too, some to the extent that they can't find space for themselves in their heads anymore, some quietly panicking that they'll never 'switch off' again. Someone said to me the other day that this claim staking is making them wonder whether there's literally enough space in their heads for the three children originally planned. I can see that. Whilst the heart space is a slight concern, it's the head space that really concerns me.

I think I used to be a vaguely intelligent person. I have a first degree and a small handful of good jobs well done to confirm it. And please don't get me wrong, I am not saying for one moment that having a child has turned me into a stupid, unambitious zombie (a description of mothers that a 'Stylist' magazine poll on motherhood aired to the masses a few weeks ago - as just one viewpoint, I should quickly explain before I unwittingly begin a war on Stylist by mums everywhere). But I do doubt how well I would do back in my old working world again, and I'm not entirely sure that it's all about 'baby brain'.

Initially, in pregnancy, I hated the baby brain and did truely feel like I was losing myself. My good memory, recall, vocabulary, all gone in a flutter of little fingers and toes. I still forget stuff now, 11 months into motherhood, but I don't think it's baby brain in the sense that it was. I just think my brain can't run at full capacity anymore on the things it used to. It has to run an additional programme all the time, sometimes as the main piece of software, but always in the background, and it uses memory. It's taking up space. My additional programme? Mini-Peel 1.0.

This could well be an  accurate picture of Mini-Peel 1.0. Really.

Whether it's running calculations on the time until another nappy change or how much calcium has been had today, or more sophisticated algorithms like what kind of schooling we want her to have or how to make sure she understand her emotions as she develops... It's always on. Always. And it makes all other brain activities - not harder... Just less important. It makes my other brain activities lack the conviction,  the ballsey 110%-or-nothing attitude that meant they got accomplished really well. Because there's just not 110% there to give them now.

I said at the start that it's something that's shocked me about motherhood. There may be daddies out there who have had their chunks of brain staked too, but I don't think it's as widespread. My husband is the most supportive partner and the best dad I could ever have imagined. His heart is firmly in the sticky grip of our little'un and he dotes on her. He also is happy to admit that when he shuts the door to the house and leaves for work, that's it until he's home. He is daddy no longer unless his phone rings and it's me on the line. He is himself, doing a good job at work, with clients, in meetings, with his team, wherever he is. His heart may have been staked at the moment she was born, but his head is firmly his own when he chooses it to be.

And thank goodness! One of us has to earn the pennies and I'm not convinced he'd do as well at work if he was worrying about what to do the first time our one-day teenage daughter brings a pimpley youth home and announces she's in love. Or how we'll manage things if she ever gets bullied. Or hooked on drugs. Or retreats into herself and shuts us out. These are all things that Mini-Peel 1.0 is running at this moment in my head and I am hugely thankful that my husband can get through his day without its myriad distractions.

I'm shocked by it, this incessant whirring of my mind around my little girl, but I'm not resentful of it. I've chosen to make this my full time job for now, and in my last full time job, I would start early, stay late, check emails at all hours, and often dream about work. In some ways, it was always whirring away in the background, so it makes sense that my new job has me doing the same - plus a bit extra, given it involves the life of a real little person.

In some ways I'm grateful for it, Mini-Peel 1.0, because it keeps me from succumbing to the selfish urges I get - to just ignore her whinging for a moment so I can have a few more moments in the shower, to roll over and go back to sleep when she wakes at night. If you're a parent, you'll know these. Either that or I'm a really bad person. The background programme kicks me into remembering how important it is not to do what I want in these scenarios - and then sometimes terrifies me by reeling off a stat or psychological finding of the potential impact of me doing that selfish thing, because I read too much, retain odd things, and chances are there's a reason not to do pretty much everything in the parenting spectrum backed up by someone or other at some point along the line.

So, I'm glad that my little'un has staked her claim in my heart, and in my head, for now. It's a good thing. Until I start to wonder if that claim will one day be the reason she complains that she has an overprotective mother and it's damaging her ability to be truely independent. Or tells her flatmates that I have empty nest syndrome and am driving her away with my constant calling... But there goes Mini-Peel 1.0 again, and quite frankly, those are concerns for Future Me to deal with.

Babywearing in Britain (read 'the rain')

I didn't set out to be a babywearer. I bought a wrap in my second trimester because, renovating our home, I thought it would be a good way to carry on working hands free, just strap it (the baby) on and off we go. (Anyone who is also a parent will be stunned to know this hasn't really happened.)

I didn't like the ones with fabric between the baby and parent as I thought that, if I had one that held them as close as possible, it would keep them happier. So we got the Flo wrap from Mamas & Papas when it was on sale and that was that.

Nothing could have prepared me for the insane, hormones-plus need to protect my bundle. Speaking to other parents, not everyone has this, (you're possibly lucky), but I felt panicky if or little girl was anywhere but on me or my husband (where I could see him, to start with). The wrap meant she never had to be anywhere else.

For the first 6 weeks or so, my insides would clench whenever anyone except me or my husband held her. Whilst I did battle with those clenches to ensure grandparents were - gasp - allowed to hold her, it doubled up as a magic forcefield when we went out, keeping all those loving, adoring coos the other side of our cocoon and meaning that no overzealous relatives or friends could take her for cuddles then whisk her off out of sight (particularly useful at church).

The munchkin decided from day one the sleeping anywhere except on us was a no-no so the uses continued. If she needed to nap, into the wrap she went, and I would do housework, bake, or walk the dog. In the early days when she basically napped non-stop, this was a lifesaver.

It got to the point where I felt naked if she wasn't with me, like when you take off a favourite necklace. Also, my paranoia that she would spontaneously combust if she wasn't attached to me was calming down but still very much present. I got all wobbly the first time I put her in a buggy and felt nervous the entire 10 minutes she was in it - nervous like at the start of a rollercoaster ride when you're going up slowly and it's making that clicking sound (without the knowledge that any second it'll get all exhilarating). Roll these things together, combine them with an inordinate amount of love for the munchkin which required regular snuggles, and that was it, I was a babywearer.

That would all be fabulous if it wasn't for our glorious British weather.

This summer has been irresponsibly warm for England with hot, humid days for weeks on end. It started late April so I bought a length of thinner, lighter coloured fabric and made a new wrap.

Then, as July came around, even this was still very hot-and-bothered-y so I made a mei tai (thanks to Hobo Mama and Grunts & Grumbles for the patterns and how-to's I used to create my modified pattern - I'll put links at the end). It turns out, as an aside, that making mei tais is really addictive and I've started making them as gifts now too...

Anyway, that hot weather had now gotten wet-and-hot. So now what?! Well, whilst an umbrella is fine in a light drizzle, in a dog-walking deluge it just doesn't cut it. My first idea was to make a new mei tai out of oil cloth and add a hood, but her little legs would get wet...Cue a brainwave (my dad's actually, I can't take credit).

So the munchkin now has an aged 4-5 pack-a-mac which I stretch over the sling, once the little'un is safe inside, tucking it in around the edges, tying the arms to the sling straps and pulling the hood up over her head. I then put my mac on and pull the front as closed as it'll go. We look awesome.

And we are ready to face the British weather as a team until one of us decides we're big enough to announce that we can go out alone and have our own mac and wellies (because it will be her, I'm sure of it).

(How to make a mei tai :

Both of these were great starting points and then I sort of adapted from there but you could just go crazy and follow one of them properly.

 http://www.grumblesandgrunts.com/2010/10/http://www.hobomama.com/2012/03/how-to-sew-mei-tai-baby-carrier.html?m=1how-to-sew-mei-tai-baby-carrier.html?m=1)