Six months of Coops

As I’m pretty sure every parents says it and I am being constantly reminded recently, the time is just flying by. Casey has changed SO much already in his first 6 months, much like my love for him. My love for him is as deep as it is wide, I fall in love with his generous smiles, more and more everyday. We had a rough start and it was a challenging time dealing with severe separation anxiety after recovering from a car accident, along with a lot of other factors, while trying to welcome a second baby into our already well established unit. But as I slowly came out the other side my love has grown ferociously. I knew there was the ability to love a second child as much as the first but I don’t think I was prepared for the capacity in which it floods your soul.

My love for Beaux has also grown tenfold from the way she must always know where he is, have a part of her body touching his when we’re sat together and always asking after him when she’s been away for a period of time. Her generosity and how she’s welcomed him with open arms and an open heart has mine bursting at the seams. (She said she wanted to share her birthday with him and he could have some of her presents and balloons because that is what you do when you love someone, you share what you have) – no you’re crying.

My heart floods with love every time I look at him. Maybe its a Mother-son thing, but the way he smiles and kicks his legs when he sees me like an excited frog that’s just found his feet killlllls me. Believe me, that four-month sleep regression nearly broke me but there really is no coffee that can awaken your heart like those gummy, old man smiles.

My boy B

He’s always been a very chilled baby right from the beginning, and already has the sweetest little mannerisms; that little smile he does with his tongue out genuinely does things to my heart, I can almost hear it crumbling.

Morning Bliss

At six months Casey LOVES his jumperoo, he gets so into the bouncing he then loses it and has to centre himself again. It’s hilarious to watch. He likes to sit upright with us and doesn’t particularly like being flat but he’s very good at the arched back when he’s had enough. His back is SO strong its a struggle to try to keep him sat up as he just straightens up and pulls himself up to standing. He finds sheer delight in being naked though, when he gets fussy and I’ve tried everything we get him naked and like Mary Poppins, we get his sunny attitude shining through again.

I love watching his face light up when he sees Daddy or hears his voice, and the way he gazes up at his big sister so adoringly , always interested in whatever Beaux is up to. Unsurprisingly she was the first one to get him to do the full belly roll laugh which was, as you can imagine, utter joy. They are constantly giggling together and often Casey will just look at her and smile in adoration. If ever you were unsure of having another child, that very look will give you absolute reassurance that it was the right thing to do. They are definitely both old souls and when I see them having secret conversations I imagine they’re both recalling another time.

“And I’d chose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d chose you.”

He started having purées a few weeks ago as he was still starving after bottle feeds and had been feeding every two hours during the nights most days so where I’ve felt appropriate, he’s had small portions of age appropriate foods and has since had far less disturbed sleeps.

Oh the irony. And the rolls!

Which brings me onto every mums favourite subject – sleep. I guess that’s all most people seem to care/worry/compete about. Well to be honest, it can vary day-to-day. Some nights he’ll feed 3 times, some nights he’ll just need turning and some, well few, he’ll sleep all the way through. Let’s just say we won’t be winning any competitions anytime soon.

Sleeping mancub

Which leads me on to routine. Yes routine is important. Tiny humans work best when they know what to expect and when, however if that routine doesn’t coincide with them/you that day then it can make for a very frustrated baby and mama. Mostly, he’s alert and ready for the day about 8am, needs a fairly decent nap from 11-1 but then will need another one about 4 then bed at around 8. But if he’s had an unsettled night or his sisters kindly given him her cold I can’t expect to stick to the exact routine the next day.. unless you’re Gina Ford and hate children.. who also doesn’t have a child for her point of reference.

Beaux had even less routine than Casey does, which served her so well for nursery and being looked after by others. A happy baby is a happy life. So while we aren’t structuring our day around meal times just yet and as long as he is ready for bed by 8pm, he sleeps when he’s tired and eats when he’s hungry. That way he’ll be rested and fed enough to last the night, making for one very happy well slept baby! Which is essential as he starts to explore the world even more. He’ll soon be in nursery and I don’t want to be that mum that’s day is utterly ruined and everyone’s been thrown off keel, pulling teeth because baby didn’t sleep from 1:45 – 2:05. I’m just not that structured and need to live life. There may be an emergency trip to McDonald’s at noon, so if baby sleeps in the car half an hour early I don’t want to have to regret my beige food choices for the rest of the week.

Some days I still can’t quite believe that he is actually here after what felt like 265 months of pregnancy. And then I realise that so soon he’ll have been out of my tummy longer than he was in.

I feel so incredibly lucky to be his mummy.

The boy who stole my heart

I just can’t get enough of him – he changes everyday and is developing such an amazing personality, I can’t wait to see his similarities and differences to his sister. And I can’t, for love nor money, stop kissing his irresistible cheeks. He really was the missing piece to this family and he is so loved by everyone, mostly Beaux.

Motherhood is a way of seeing magic in the world that you might otherwise be blind to. A world that so often can be ruthless and cruel. Children’s innocence really is something that makes the world go round, it’s something we could all do more of. I feel so privileged to be able to look at the world through their eyes, and see love and joy in everything.

His happiness every morning waking up to us and being so happy just to be alive is something magical in itself.


Casey Cooper Bliss

The Last Time

“I am your parent, you are my child. I am your quiet place, you are my wild.”

My darling girl has her first nativity today. This is it, this is the beginning of the ‘letting go’ process and I’m just not as ready as I thought I’d be to let my baby grow up.

I swear it was yesterday that I was the centre of her world and we were playing mermaids in the bath before she’d even learnt words. Now her world has broadened its horizons, her independence is showing its face more everyday and she’s ready to jump into this life confidently with every atom of her being, and while I love her fierce little ways, I wonder and hope that the world is ready and kind to her.

In the meantime I’ll hold on to these next few years with gritted teeth while I learn to slowly let my mermaid go.

(God help me on her first day of school.)

*UPDATE*  It’s ok guys, she absolutely bottled it and spent most of the first half on my lap sobbing… But then if you haven’t boo’ed for the majority of a nativity at least once did you even have a childhood?! – Guess she’s still my baby for now. ❤️


My darling bumblebee, you are the sun. ❤️

The Last Time

From the moment you hold your baby in your arms,
you will never be the same.
You might long for the person you were before, 
When you have freedom and time,
And nothing in particular to worry about.

But don’t forget …You will know tiredness like you never knew it before,
And days will run into days that are exactly the same,
Full of feedings and burping,
Nappy changes and crying,
Whining and fighting,
Naps or a lack of naps,
It might seem like a never-ending cycle.

There is a last time for everything.
There will come a time when you will feed
your baby for the very last time.
They will fall asleep on you after a long day
And it will be the last time you ever hold your sleeping child.

One day you will carry them on your hip then set them down,
And never pick them up that way again.
You will scrub their hair in the bath one night
And from that day on they will want to bathe alone.
They will hold your hand to cross the road,
Then never reach for it again.
They will creep into your room at midnight for cuddles,
And it will be the last night you ever wake to this.

One afternoon you will sing “the wheels on the bus”
and do all the actions,
Then never sing them that song again.
They will kiss you goodbye at the school gate,
The next day they will ask to walk to the gate alone.
You will read a final bedtime story and wipe your last dirty face.
They will run to you with arms raised for the very last time.

The thing is, you won’t even know it’s the last time
Until there are no more times.
And even then, it will take you a while to realize.

So while you are living in these times,
remember there are only so many of them
and when they are gone, you will yearn for just one more day of them.
For one last time.

-Author Unknown-

The dreaded question

So today I was faced with the all-time bug bearing question every new mum faces.

I’ve heard it a lot the last 17 weeks and while usually I’m relieved I can answer to the comfort of the questioner, today was difficult.

“Is he good?”

You mean does he sleep and stay quiet? – Well yes, usually he sleeps and doesn’t cry.. unless he’s hungry, or tired, or bored, or lonely, or scared, or cold, or hot, or fancies a cry. Because surprisingly, and completely unbeknownst to me, he’s a tiny baby. (Who would have known? I thought they came out knowing the basic principles of morality?! I know some fully grown adults that still don’t know this…) So his basic survival skills don’t always allow for being a good baby. – And quite frankly Susan, last night he was an utter arsehole. I’m still sticking to my word that croup is a thing of the devil and I’m pretty sure at around 2am 666 faintly showed up on his forehead.

It’s hard enough as it is during those sleepless moments that feel like days when you start questioning your ability as a parent, your capability as a human and in the darkest times, the love for your child. That added with people’s opinions that your baby, in that moment, is bad can become an even lonelier and scarier place. It’s not about good or bad, it’s about knowing your baby is alive, healthy and while that entails the ability to let you know vocally their needs, its kept them alive thus far.

So lets all just take a minute and think about the newborn small talk (and we all know how I feel about pregnancy/newborn/general small talk) and maybe adjust the question… Like Is he happy? 

Well yes, he’s beyond happy, he smiles the second he wakes up and sees me, his world lights up when Dan is around and his first gummy giggle was at Beaux. (Don’t get me started on people’s attitudes and opinions towards how she should correctly behave around him.) But maybe his happiness is an involuntary reaction to trapped wind?! He could be miserable as fuck deep down.

So is my baby good? Well he’s alive and striving and other than the croup set back and being an arsehole on what seems to be purpose at times, he’s been a perfectly perfect baby to me, but ultimately he’s just a baby, a baby that genuinely coughs and farts at the same time just as much as the next.


Here’s them at 2am. Where I was top of their guest list to Partytown. Casey did an exceptional, shouty bollox, rendition of Prince’s Kiss and Beaux just kept asking when it was time for breakfast...

-There were 4 in the bed and Daddy said “Fuck this.”-

A weekend well spent brings a week of content.

I would put my featured image as my face this morning, but in all honest I have no doubt someone would set up a GoFundMe page and send round a Samaritan.

After about 4 hours broken sleep I’d also like to say I’m currently attempting to fill my Monday-caffeine-quota, but alas, Miss Bliss has other plans for me today and she’s already spilt half my gallon-mug all over me. Thankfully, and unsurprisingly, it was cold.

After a brilliant start to the weekend of baking muffins, bulk cooking pasta sauce and generally parenting the shit out of life, a sleepover with Beauxs all-time-faves, us parentals out in London for a gig – and me not losing my shit or getting even slightly clammy. (probs the 29501475934 starters I ordered from Wagamamas that absorbed the fear, or the fact James Arthur was so ridiculously good I was distracted from the amount of people around me. Well done, sir.)

I should have known it was too good to be true on the way home when the car decided to die a coolant death with 4% phone battery between us.

We put the Christmas tree up on Saturday (sorry Scrooges) only to be met with a limited supply of fairy lights. (Its their fault for being so twinkly that I’ve slowly put them up elsewhere throughout the year.) So with a half lit tree I went out on the fairy light hunt.

I’d been gone an hour and returned home to rock solid cookies, Beaux fashioning Sharpie all over her face and had emptied a baggy of star/glitter sequins all over the shag pile rug like she was at a crafting exhibition. – sprinkle that shit!

The tree was finished and we were in full Christmas mode. Turning down Michael Buble only to hear the sweet sounds of Casey, barking like a seal.

He obviously sensed we had a relatively decent sleep on friday night and thought he’d like a show around of Abingdon Hospital. Cheers pal. Croup is a thing of the devil but so was the film playing in the waiting room. ‘Obsessed’ – Idris and Beyoncé what the fuck were you thinking?

Sunday came round before my head even hit the pillow when Beaux decided to wake up the second I got back from hospital to tell me “I just love Kitty cat. Lets read together” Lets absolutely not. She then woke up about 3 hours later to come and ask me to put on her Cinderella dress…

Later in the day we went to a wedding showcase, Beaux was good until we walked in and she demanded food, found some brownies, ate one, licked the rest and then put them back.

Fast forward to last night, where Casey was either trying to attract all the dogs in the area, or dreaming of a past life where he danced for fish at a marine park. #sleepreallyisfortheweak

This morning just set up the day really when Beaux came in with a “present” for me.

She goes downstairs with Dan before work and comes back up when he leaves, sometimes there’s a gap in timing. Today was one of those times. As I began opening the gift covered in paper, a sudden rush of irrational fear swept through me, I saw what looked like a few handfuls of teeth. FFS…Panic averted as it was just an entire packet of chewing gum she’d broken up.

So now I’m just trying to reassure myself that ‘it can only get better’.. till I imagine what it will be like when they’re both able to set fire to the house.

Happy Monday friends. Stay safe.

And if you can’t stay safe just smile and wing it.

Yes that’s Beaux in the back eyeing up which bit of the tree to terrorise.



Now who’s the exhausted a**ehole?!

Imagine, I’m there drinking another gallon of coffee at 6pm last night in a bid to feel and look less like a dug-up-corpse for parents evening. It had only been microwaved once so I felt like I was transported to Starbucks, Riverside MotherF*cker.

Fast forward to 10pm, I’m ready for our rock-star-bed-time and now Casey is fully unconscious. Meanwhile I’m so caffeinated I can’t feel my face and that mixed with this anxiety bastard that wont let me sleep as of late, plus the anticipation of one of my closest friends about to give birth any moment, I lay there checking my phone every 5 seconds making sure it was still working.

Obviously the second I fell asleep he woke up in a ravenous frenzy demanding alllll the ounces and by the end of the animalistic feed we were both ready for the long nap. He slept for another 6 hours which is up there in epic proportions to normal.

Only to be woken to messages of an out-of-the-blue engagement – the second of the week (feeling the love guys) and the arrival of Baby! I mean at what point could I sleep after that! ❤️💙


So its made me realise, if I wasn’t up with Casey, I’d be up for another reason and sometimes, it’s just easier to blame someone else.


In other news, while taking out the rubbish this morning, I noticed this little sock situation…


My sock voluntarily did the roll thing – Circa 1994, Year 2 – where the ‘tighter the roll, the closer to God’ or some shit. And while my love for a sock/sandal combo knows no bounds at the moment, this takes me back to when your social status was based entirely on the roll quality.

How I long to go back to a simpler time.


Hank Marvin

So here I am, telling my 2 year old not to fuck with me till I’m highly caffeinated. Which, by my standards, probably won’t be till about 3pm.

I feel slightly bad as it’s not her fault her brother was an arsehole all night, but she slept in her My Little Pony jumper 🙄 again last night and she’s been sporting a Cinderella dress over the top of it since 6am so as far as I’m concerned, her day can’t get much better.

While I was pregnant anyone and everyone warned me about having a boy. “You’ll never sleep again. Good luck with the feeding. Prepare yourself for their hunger” and I remember thinking “oh bore off” along with all the useless comments people think are acceptable to say to a pregnant person (which will lead me on to another post, fear not)

But boyyyyy was this something that actually materialised to be of some truth.

I mean, it’s not like there’s anything I could do to prepare myself – Like doing a few laps around the village, sucking on some orange slices, getting some extra sleep or even just any sleep in while I was pregs – which by the way doesn’t happen.

But this kid is something else. There’s 3 gestation weeks between him and his sister. She was 2 weeks late and he was a week early. I’ve tried putting her hunger down to being older than she was and his down to trying to ‘catch up’. Realistically they’re just greedy bastards.

At this point she was already having baby rice in the evenings to tie her over – yes my health visitor said it was fine after 4 months if they show signs they’re ready – before I feel your judgey eyes reading this. So I tried some with him last night…

Only to be met with his disapproving looks towards flavour, temperature and just overall experience. But then if I’d been drowning in sweet warm nectar for the first 4.5 months of life to then be given cold red pepper slime I’d be pretty livid about the whole thing too. (Daddy’s impeccable choice from the limited Tesco express selection)

He’s trying to make light of the situation here but I really felt his disappointment.

Processed with VSCO with f2 preset We tried apple purée after and that went down like a Nando’s to the cheeky type. He only had 2 spoonfuls but I think it opened his eyes to a whole new world (fully riding that Arabian carpet). I forget how baby’s turn into crackheads after their first purée hit.

I thought maybe we’d cracked it as we put him down for the long nap… alas, I was wrong.

As standard, for the 3rd night this week he woke up with no warning just 0 – Ethiopian-starved in 0.3 seconds. Anyone listening would think we’d locked him in the cupboard under the stairs and waited for a Hogwarts letter to feed him. In reality he’s eating every 3 hours. 😂🙄

So now I sit desperately, looking out the window with my gallon of cold coffee, praying that Tesco hurry’s the fuck up so we can unload all of the baby food.


and its only Wednesday!..

Pray for me,


Kids say the darndest things.

As we draw ever closer to Christmas and being constantly reminded by my daughter every waking minute, its made me reflect on how much more aware of it all she is this year. The excitement is bursting out of her like a can your friend at school would shake in a bid to soak you in humiliation – Unfortunately in this situation I can’t ‘tap her three times’ to minimise the pent up hysteria.

This time last year she could barely speak, had an offensive barnet, tiny gappy teeth and as the title would suggest, if you asked her to say Christmas her response was “Piss”.

It seems we’ve gone in full circle this past year, from telling everyone “Merry Piss” … to her Tangled obsession where she proceeded to tell adults I’d “locked her in the garden”, her inability to pronounce her ‘R’s has had her repeating “rank” in a less than appropriate manner, dropping something in a supermarket and getting very shouty “oh for fzzks Sake!” to telling the entire nursery staff that “Daddy has a tail” – I will never live that down! to very matter-of-factly tell random adults at parties “I don’t like you” and to just now, when Casey’s milk bottle leaked all over him (damn these anti colic contraptions) when she said “Look, piss! its pissed all over him!” –

Note to self – We really must get that swear jar fixed.

Merry almost Piss-mas!

Beaux – Christmas 2016