Posts by mumofsonny

Hello, I'm a freelance writer and mum from Belfast. I specialise in human interest, fashion, beauty, lifestyle and celebrity profiles. I live with my best friend in the shape of a pretty amazing husband in the east of the city, our beautiful baby son Sonny and a boisterous rescue cat called Rex, a more appropriate name might be Wrecks. I've been putting pen to paper since I was a teenager. starting of with angst-ridden poems and progressing to write about things and people that inspire me. I love writing, it's a wonderful form of expression and I take pride in eliciting emotions in people. For me, that's the ultimate reward. I'm 30-something, and to my shame. it's taken me this long to galvanise myself to start a blog. It's probably a confidence thing but, as you get older, you're not so paralysed by what people think of you anymore. This is me, like it or lump it. With this blog, I'll be writing about my life, what I've learned, what I've still to learn and hopefully inspiring you and making you laugh and/or cry. I'm not here to ruffle feathers or be controversial. I'm just going to be myself. I hope you enjoy reading what I have to say. Love, Davina x

We got you 2019!

Last year was amazing. I created life. I’m feeling the best I’ve ever felt despite sleepless nights and the challenges motherhood presents. As 2019 loads, here’s what I’m hoping for…

Mum’s the word!

I want to be the best mum I can be. I’m fairly new to this gig but so far have managed to keep a tiny human alive and thriving. I want to continue in that quest to raise a healthy and happy boy.

Have a little patience…

It’s a thing that is in short supply when you’re a mother, especially a new one. You find yourself with a shorter fuse thanks to lack of or broken sleep, the never-ending list of tasks, the annoying habits of your hubby etc. I want to be more patient in 2019.

Smile darn ya, smile!

It’s the prettiest thing you own. I catch myself in a perma-frown most of the time. It feels good to smile, to laugh. I studiously avoid people’s gaze when I’m out and about, unless I have a full face of makeup. But, smiling is contagious. You’ll brighten up someone’s day by exchanging a smile and maybe even your own. That said, I definitely smile more now that Sonny is around.

Eat cleaner, drink greener.

Most of us will make a resolution to eat better and cut down on the booze. I want to eat better, not just for me but so I’m fit and healthy for my son. I also need to cut back on the adult grape juice, for my liver and clarity of mind.

Money’s too tight to mention.

We’re all chasing more money, for the opportunities it affords. I need to be better with my finances. I’ve never been frugal and yet somehow I’ve ended up marrying a financial advisor! I’m an impulsive creature and can’t resist online shopping for clothes and accessories. That has been dramatically curbed now I have a baby and now, I’m buying outfits and accessories for him. Oh, a lotto win would be nice.

Be more organised

Hands up – I’m not blessed with organisational skills. That’s not to say I can’t get my shit together when I need to. I’ve adapted to becoming a mother and the challenges that presents. What I’m really struggling with now is keeping up with the housework. I grimace when I see the tower of dirty laundry every morning. I groan at the constant dishes, constant sterilising Sonny’s bottles and eating apparatus. Damn, it’s hard. But I know I just need to figure out a system in my head and I’ll be fine… any tips would be welcome!

Feel the fear but do it anyway.

I think you become more fearless as you grow older. You care much less about what people think and become more comfortable with who you are. I want to chase my dreams this year. I’m feeling strong, happy and focused. This is going to be my year.

What are your hopes and dreams for 2019? Let me know in the comments below.

A very happy and prosperous New Year from Sonny and me. 

Dx

All I Want for Christmas, by Sonny

So mum, I know I’m going to get loads and loads of presents but here’s what I really, really want for Christmas…

Milk

It’s really yummy and I can’t get enough of it. I especially like when I can lie back and do a starfish and not make any effort to hold the bottle. More of that good stuff. Keep it flowing.

Fruit

You’ve started giving me mushy fruit and stuff. It’s okay I guess, I kind of like apples, pears and strawberries but I’m not keen on blueberries or carrots. They’re weird. Does anyone even like them? I also like doing a mic drop with my spoon and smearing food all over my face and hands. That’s fun. And don’t even think about eating if I’m not. That’s so not cool!

The Remote Control

Basically anything that I’m not allowed. It’s fun to change channels when you’re watching something you like. I also like tinfoil, crisp packets and zips. Not fussy really.

Hair

Why can’t you wear your hair down all the time mum? I like seeing you wince when I pull it. It’s also good to suck on.

My Dummy

I want you to always be on hand to put it in when it falls out of my mouth. It’s annoying and far too much effort to put it back in my mouth myself. Yes, I know I pull it out myself, but, come on, I’m a baby!

Sleep

I love sleeping. I’m a baby. I’d like you to respect this by being quiet when I have my afternoon naps and please do not make any sounds during the nighttime. Breathing is permitted, if you must.

Cuddles

Not too tight please, just enough so I can feel nice and cosy. Don’t put me down even when your arms start to hurt.

Rude Noises

Belching, wretching, fart sounds. The ruder the better! Does this make me a proper bloke? Hope so.

The Cat

I like fluffy stuff so it’s annoying when the silly cat jumps off when I grab it.

Hanging Upside Down

This is a lot of fun for me, I don’t care if it hurts your arms. Whatever.

If you adhere to the above, I guess I’ll wish you a happy Christmas. Not happier than mine obviously.

Also, I still want new toys that I can play with for five minutes before getting bored and nice new clothes that I can vomit on. And I’m going to get you back for dressing me as a pudding.

Sonny x

Happy birthday to me!

I’m 39. How the heck did that happen? To celebrate, I will be slipping on my killer sparkly heels, wearing a knockout LBD and hitting the town to drink until the wee hours and roll home at whatever time I can get a taxi. Only kidding.

As a teenager, I thought 30 was ancient and here I am, almost four decades into my existence on planet Earth. It’s been the best and most challenging year of my life and one of two halves, the first six months I was growing a tiny human and spending my days dreaming about what he would look like, yearning to hold him. The second part was becoming a mother. The hardest and most rewarding job I’ll ever do.

I’ll spend the last year of my thirties trying to be the best mum I can be and attempting to check a few more things of the bucket list before I turn the big 4-0. Growing older is a strange thing. You don’t really notice your familiar face blinking back at you each day changing, bar the ever increasing fine lines around the eyes, the odd silver hair. Some days, I fizzle with energy, excited for the future and other days, I just feel old.

However, I have everything I wanted in my early thirties, a solid, dependable man who loves me, a nice home that I feel safe in, a beautiful son. Plus, I have a pretty incredible support network in the shape of my wonderful family and friends. I’m lucky and I really am grateful for it. I still have ambitions, I am still a woman with hopes and dreams and I’m always going to be chasing rainbows, that’s just who I am.

I might not be going clubbing this year, but my lovely hubby will be taking me out for a slap up birthday meal of steak and red wine. It’s the stuff of dreams. It doesn’t take much to make me happy, but I just said it. I’m happy. That’s the best birthday present I could ask for.


He’s not getting near my birthday cake!

Weaning, squealing and forget about the cleaning!

The time has come, what I’ve been sort of dreading for months… feeding my baby actual food. After months of figuring out teats and bottles and formula, you have another minefield to deal with. I looked upon this stage with some apprehension. But, now I’ve relaxed a little into motherhood, I’m seeing it as the next adventure. There are many, many books about weaning (I’ve bought or been given plenty), but they’re doing nothing other than gathering dust on the book shelf. I’m a very last minute kind of girl by nature, so I’ve not yet even opened them, opting to ‘wing it’. I’ve also purchased a Tommee Tippee Baby Food Blender which is still in its box. I really am an advertiser’s dream. Thank god for Ella’s Kitchen. My larder is now full of brightly coloured foil pouches. I consider this is a bit lazy, not to mention expensive but, you could say, I’m easing myself into this new phase.

Sonny adores his new high chair, and enjoys thumping the tray energetically as if to say, “I want fed noooow mum!”. The first day of him trying puree went pretty well. I situated him in the kitchen, where I thought it would be easier to clean. Sadly, it’s not fancy enough to have a breakfast bar or big enough for a dining table and chairs so it meant me standing while I tried to eat and feed him too. Eventually, I brought him into the living room. We have wood floors so I thought “What the heck, it can be wiped”. He tucked into his apple and banana puree with gusto. He only had a few spoonfuls but he definitely enjoyed this new experience, as did I! I gave him his preloaded spoon, which he whacked against his face and squealed, before flinging it across the room. Fair enough Sonny. You’re new to this. Hell, so am I.

Hmm, not so sure about this, mum.

I’m by no means a tidy person, I just like things the way I like them. I love picture frames, candles, cushions and throws. Anything that makes a place look homely. I nearly lost my shit when my dear husband washed my prized Biba faux fur throw at 50 degrees, blaming it for making him itchy. This is why I do the laundry, because he never reads the effing washing instructions. After sulking for a few hours, I had to just let it go, there are too many other things of importance to think about. All material things are replaceable. Now we have a baby, our small but lovely home is going to be messy. I need to accept that. When we win the lotto, we’ll hire a full-time cleaner.

In other news, I was taking Rex to the vet earlier this week. The cat was literally out of the bag mid-transit (I had him in his carrier underneath the pram). What ensued was stressful but hilarious for onlookers. I was even thinking, “wouldn’t it be funny if the cat escaped?”, it really wasn’t.

It’s been a more dramatic week than I was hoping but such is life. And there’s no greater adventure than the highs and lows of motherhood.

All this eating is exhausting…




Bite-size first aid for mini-sized humans

When you have a baby, every fibre of your being is geared towards protecting your precious little bundle. It’s a natural instinct, but sometimes you need a little help in knowing what to do in an emergency. It’s utterly terrifying to think you’ll ever need to use first aid, but it could save your child’s life.

Having come across Mini First Aid on Facebook, an invaluable resource for me as a writer, I immediately knew I wanted to do it. Now, while it would be beneficial for Sonny to know what to do if I trip myself up, or knock myself out on a door frame, (I’m incredibly clumsy), this course is about protecting your little one, obvs. There isn’t a certificate or qualification at the end, something far more valuable – knowledge, which is priceless.

If the face is red, raise the head. If the face is pale, raise the tail.

Let the learning commence!

Run by friendly and very knowledgeable coordinators Ruth and Jodie, the two-hour course was held at Whalley Fine Art Gallery on the Belmont Road. A small group of people, mothers, fathers and grandparents attended. The course comprised of a number of important topics including CPR, broken bones, burns, choking, head bumps, bleeding, febrile seizures and even spotting the signs of meningitis.

Be forceful if you know you’re right.

The course opened with listing the items you would have in a first aid kit at home and some of the contents may surprise you. Interestingly, a credit card is also ideal for removing bee stings. Who knew? CPR was next. It’s definitely not something you want to dwell on. But, if you your baby isn’t breathing, would you know what to do? Jodie used visual aids and did demonstrations. The floor was opened to anyone who wanted to try CPR on the baby and child manikins. I tried CPR on the baby manikin and it’s nothing like what you see on Casualty. There is a technique to it and I found it really beneficial to practice. There is also a well-known children’s song that you can do compressions to. Another section I found very helpful was dealing with choking. As I prepare to wean Sonny (he’s almost six months!), I’m terrified of this happening as babies can choke on pureed food too. At least now, I’ve a good grasp of what to do until professional help arrives.

Let’s face it, accidents happen. From boiling pots, hot straighteners, even hot running bath water, danger is everywhere. I was alarmed to be informed that a baby can be burned by tea after 20 minutes. One thing that was put impressed upon was that, even in an emergency, you should remain as calm as possible. You won’t be any good to anyone if you panic. Also, always, always trust your instincts and go with your gut. Be forceful if you know you’re right.

I was worried that Sonny would play up  during the course but thankfully, he entertained the group with regular burps, yawns and epic grunts. I should have been mortified but you have to see the funny side. I’d definitely recommend this course for new mums or for those who’d like a refresher in first aid. It would also make a thoughtful and potentially lifesaving Christmas gift! And don’t worry, children are quite resilient, so don’t be rushing off to wrap them in cotton wool, which incidentally should never be used on burns! 

Sonny keeping himself entertained.

For more information and to book, visit:

http://www.minifirstaid.co.uk/

https://www.facebook.com/minifirstaidbelfast/

Something’s gotta give, mama!

I overheard an exhausted mother utter this while having my morning Americano in a local cafe while Sonny squirmed and floundered in his buggy. She was sat just across from me, unloading to a pregnant friend. Don’t judge me, I know ear-wigging is a bit naughty but I just couldn’t help myself. We’ve all done it, right? She lamented that she’d got the kids ready this morning while her husband scrolled through the news on his phone. This is normal, for her husband. Even though she was justified in complaining, she still tried to explain it away. She even said, “it’s routine, I’m used to it now.” I felt really sad for her and then I realised that this attitude still prevails in the 21st century.

A lot is expected of women, true. We’re traditionally the homemakers, the life givers, the child raisers, all the while in many cases, holding down a part-time or full-time job. Damn, it’s not easy. I’m on maternity leave with the clock counting down to my return to work. I’m adjusting to my new role as mother okay, I hope, but it’s a full-time job looking after a baby while keeping on top of the laundry, the dishes, the bottle cleaning, tidying, cleaning etc.

An average day goes like this:

  • Get up and quick shower.
  • Feed Sonny.
  • Change nappy and get him dressed (sometimes several times if the poo train comes to town).
  • Coffee.
  • Entertain/soothe Sonny.
  • Attempt to do some writing.
  • Change nappy.
  • Try and put Sonny down for a nap. It’s hard to know whether he wants to play or sleep!
  • Put on a wash.
  • Fold and put away dry clothes
  • Feed cat.
  • Make lunch for hubby.
  • Feed Sonny.
  • Wash up dishes.
  • General tidy.
  • Put on another wash.
  • Take Sonny for a walk/get fresh air before my head explodes.
  • Supermarket for baby stuff.
  • Wash and steralise bottles (several times throughout day).
  • Entertain and or soothe Sonny.
  • Do a bit of writing.
  • Bath time (I might as well be getting a bath too).
  • Get Sonny ready for bed.
  • Feed Sonny.
  • Ah shit, he’s not for sleeping.
  • Dishes.
  • Prepare bottles for during the night/morning.
  • Bed.

The above is subject to change obviously and some days are smoother than others. It depends on the boss. My beloved does help, of course. Maybe I feel that I should be doing the lion’s share because I’m not working… wait a minute. I can’t imagine juggling life once I return to work. Working mums are superhuman. Fact.

All said and done, motherhood is wildly rewarding. Sonny is getting more fun by the day. He’s mastering sitting up, rolling and babbling in the cutest way. It makes me turn to jelly. He bloody better not say “dada” first which it’s looking like more and more each day. I know I’ve it easier than a lot of mums out there. If you’re one of them or by some amazing coincidence the woman I overheard this morning (sorry!), slow down and take a breather – something’s gotta give or you’ll break. You’re doing amazing. More than that, you’re a wonder woman. I salute you.

Speaking of super humans, meet Super Sonny One Sock!

Mind the bump

I was in the shower earlier (ah the luxury!) and my hand lingered over my soft, still slightly protruding tummy as the suds dripped over it. I absentmindedly stroked it and then realised that I missed my bump. “Seriously?” I thought.

My pregnancy was straightforward, thankfully. I did find it tough towards the end. It was a hot summer and as much as I love the sun, it became a source of extreme discomfort. I went nine days overdue. Two sweeps and nature taking its course and I was in labour. It was hard. The pain was in my back the entire time. I was sobbing as my contractions began. That was nothing. I’ll not labour the point… heh, but it was bloody tough. I was completely unprepared for the pain, despite reading hypnobirthing books in the sun, when I could stand it. I thought I had a difficult labour. My midwife thought it was easy. I was affronted. After being in labour all night, I was told at 8am that I had about two hours of pushing to go. “Never again,” I thought. When my beautiful Sonny was born, I issued my husband with a stark warning. In the first few weeks, getting no sleep, I swore to myself, “never again”. Don’t get me wrong, I adore being a mum and I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. But, could I seriously be getting broody for another one?! I think it’s the hormones. There’s no way we consider it at the moment. Plus, I’m nearing my forties. But, it’s crazy how you can do a complete 180°.

Becoming a mum changes you so drastically as a person. But it has made me a better one, at least I hope. I’m no longer preoccupied with my own internal dialogue. Sonny comes first. Always. I’ve found my purpose. I don’t know if I’ll have another baby. Time will tell. I thank my lucky stars I have Sonny. He’s enough, more than enough, he’s everything. Always.