Tag Archives: Billy

Loving my little family

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What did I ever do to deserve such an amazing family?

We’ve had a rough time of it in the Mills household. I’ve taken the tough decision to go back on maternity leave. Despite a promising showdown with my mother in hospital, she’s now rediscovered her demons and is ill again. As I’m fearing the worst, I’ve chosen to spend a bit more time with her. Craig has therefore had to forsake his daddy-time and go back to work full-time. It’s taken a lot of late-night chats and tears to get to this point but it’s now decided and I’m with Dexie until February.

Craig allergies also took hold this week and he came down with a full-blown chest infection. He’s a Man so doesn’t complain but I forced him to go to the out-of-hours surgery on Saturday after listening to him struggle to breathe throughout the night. The problem: Billy. I’ve tried to ignore it since Craig and I started living together but it clearly couldn’t go on any longer. Billy the cat is my best friend. I’ve had him for 6 years and he’s been through various house-moves and failed relationships with me. We’ve been inseparable since I got him and I’m gutted that he and Craig can’t live together. But Craig is desperately allergic to Billy and I simply can’t jeopardise his health any longer.

Missing my hairy son Billy

So Billy was re-homed yesterday. He’s gone to live with his Nan and Granddad about 10 minutes down the road. I’m gutted but pleased I’ll still get to see him regularly. He’s well used to staying around Nanny’s house as she’s had him over when Craig and I have taken weekends away. I know he’ll be more than happy there but I still miss tripping over him on the stairs, him meowing at me for a second breakfast because he thinks I’m oblivious to the fact that Craig has already fed him, him chasing dust around the lounge… He’s such a little legend there were no shortage of ‘takers’.

So Craig can finally get some respite. The doctor says he has a chest infection. His chest is really quite weak from years of smoking in his childhood. He gave up years ago but the damage was irreparable and the slightest cold sends him wheezing and brings on his asthma. inevitably, with all the sneezing, I’ve now got it. Luckily, I’m still covered by a flu jab during my pregnancy and tend to fight off illnesses easily. But poor Dexie is, as yet, untested.

He started displaying signs of a cold last night. He sounded a little bit like Darth Vader and was coughing a fair bit. Then the sneezing set in and we began to worry. Dosed with Calpol, and saline drops we put him to bed with a Karvol tissue buried in his teddies. He didn’t complain once and went to sleep. I was up with him again at 3am as he started crying and wrestling with his blanket. As the heating wasn’t on and this house gets chilly downstairs in the night, I changed him in his room then told him I’d be back with things ‘to make him feel better’. I’m not naive and know he doesn’t understand me, but he patiently waited for me to return with a warm bottle and more Calpol. He was so quiet I thought perhaps he had gone back to sleep, but no, he was watching the door waiting for me to return and smiled when I approached his cot.

I administered his meds and he was quiet and seemingly grateful. He snatched his bottle from my hands and fed himself as if to say “I’m okay mum, stop fussing”. I went back to bed when he’d finished and left him coo’ing at his toys. The plan was to let him tire himself out so he would fall asleep naturally. Unfortunately he cried again within 15 mins. I gave him a big cuddle and popped him in bed with us and fell asleep within seconds. The whole night-time saga lasted 3 hours which seems like a lifetime at that time in the morning. It’s also completely out of character given he usually sleeps right through. Having said that, it was an absolute pleasure looking after him as he was such a brave little man. We’re very in-tune with each other now and I feel really confident that I can trust my mummy instincts to help him through the difficult times.

I’m definitely feeling very grateful this week. My employers were very sympathetic and understanding, Craig continues to surprise me with his undying support, love, and resilience, and Dexter is the most perfect baby I could ever have wished for. Given I have thrown more than my fair share of tantrums this week, I’m really in awe of my little family and dedicate this post to them.

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Week 1 Highlights – From hospital to home to Tesco’s…

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Day One was spent in the hospital with mummy and daddy. We were on a recovery ward at the Royal Berkshire Hospital (The Marsh Ward) where there were lots of other mums who had been through cesarean deliveries. We had a spot right by the window overlooking a school on Craven Road. The visiting hours on the ward were 9am-1pm (for Daddy only) and 3pm-9pm (Daddy + everyone else) so the first few moments were spent snuggling with us. Shortly afterwards we began ‘attempting’ to breastfeed you – and what a mission this was!

At 3pm your uncle Dan came round to see you. He was later followed by granddad Dean, then nanny Lynne and aunty Louise. They all posed for photos and had lots of cuddles with you. All too soon was mummy was left alone with you for what was to be a very uncomfortable night in the hospital. Mummy couldn’t sleep as she was concerned you were hungry so stayed up chatting to you, changing a ton of dirty nappies, and trying to encourage you to feed. You cried lots and wanted to be held the entire night. Mummy was in considerable discomfort due to the stitches in her tummy so it was a very long night for the both of us.

Chilling at the hospital

Chilling at the hospital

By Day Two mummy had decided she wanted to be at home with you and daddy. She set about trying to convince the nurses she was okay to be discharged. As you’ll soon find out, when mummy wants something she’s very sneaky and very persistent. She made a point of taking a long shower on her own to show her mobility was good, joked to every midwife who came within 2 feet of her, and went for lots of walks in the hospital grounds.

By early afternoon we were the talk of the ward. The other mums were amazed at how many times I got out of bed, the nurses were whispering about how well mummy was coping, and mummy and daddy had already began making preparations to get you ready for the journey home. The midwife’s tried their best to convince me to stay, but by 9pm we had convinced them to let us go.

By 10.30pm we were home. Daddy had work the next day so went straight to bed, mummy spent the night cuddling you, feeding you and chatting to you – you were fairly disoriented so there was lots of crying. Billy the cat spent a few hours eyeing you up from his vantage point on the fridge / freezer. Occasionally he wandered over for a closer look but he soon gave up when mummy told him off.

Day Three was a quiet time with mummy and daddy and close family – you had your first ever bath and we began to settle into a routine. Mummy and daddy spent the entire day staring at you and talking about how beautiful you were. We started talking about names… we liked 2 of these; Dexter and Jake. As we simply couldn’t decide between them, we decided to trial Dex for 2 days, then Jake to see what stuck. We also asked our friends if they had any newspapers from the day of your birth to pop in a memory box for you.

In the early afternoon daddy’s family popped around to see you (and nanny Jayne for a short while). Aunty Sam had lots of clothes left over from when she was expecting Bella. As your cousin Bella was such a big baby she couldn’t fit into many of the clothes Sam had bought – this meant lots of freebies for you!

Day Four was an emotional day. Mummy and Daddy took you out for your first ever outing! Don’t get excited – we only went to Tesco’s but it was a big deal as it allowed us to test your new pram and show you a little more of the world. You looked so perfect in your little pushchair and absolutely tiny – lots of people stopped to stare at you and remarked how ‘cute’ you were. You didn’t wake up for the entire outing so didn’t see much… mummy plans on taking you out for lots of walks soon so hopefully next time will be more fun.

In your car seat ready for your first day trip

In your car seat ready for your first day trip

Mummy’s friend Paul popped over on Day 5 to give you some presents and have a hold. The midwife also popped round to give you a heel prick test and take off the dressings from mummy’s tummy. More visits on Day 6 as mummy’s friend from school Rachel (and her cute daughter Brooke) came over to see you. They bought you a gorgeous little pair of booties that should fit your tiny feet a few months from now. Nanny Lynne also popped round again with some little vest tops for you.

That brings us neatly to today. You’ll be surprised to learn we’re no further with picking your name and you’re no further forward in settling down at night. Mummy has had just a few hours sleep since you’ve come into her life but she still loves you (and daddy) more than anything or anyone else on the planet and is looking forward to spending her life trying to make you both happy,

Your week in pictures xxx

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This week is nearly over and there’s lots to report!

Last Saturday your daddy went off to celebrate his 41st birthday with his friends in town. Yes 41! That means he’s OLD! Mummy is still a young wrinkle-free 28-year-old so you’ll have the best of both worlds! We’re very lucky to have daddy as everything he does is for us. He works hard, he cooks us yummy food, he kisses us both every evening (even when we’re both tucked up in bed), and he loves us both soooo much. He put together your bed the other night – it took him little under an hour, surrounded by screws and alan keys. I remember thinking how lucky we are, and how safe we’re going to be here with him.
Baby's bed!

Baby's bed!

Turns out Billy the cat likes your bed too which is a little worrying. Naughty Billy has left his fur all over your mattress so we have to buy you a new one. He won’t be allowed near your bed until you’re old enough xx
Daddy and Martin turned 41

Daddy and Martin turned 41

Back to Daddy’s birthday – he went out into town with his mates. He has another friend, Martin, who shares the same birthday as him. Unfortunately mummy couldn’t go with daddy as she’s carrying you and can’t drink alcohol with you inside her. He got home at 3am-ish and mummy was already in bed sleeping. Mummy wasn’t annoyed for long though as daddy won lots of money on roulette at the casino. Daddy never gambles so this was really lucky. This money will probably be put towards your crib that you’ll sleep in for the first couple of months.
Daddy's winnings!

Daddy's winnings!

We put up the Christmas tree on Monday – or rather daddy did.  Because this is the first tree that mummy’s had in 5 years, she wanted a big one with lots of decorations. This was all neat in theory but we didn’t give much thought as to whether it would fit in our house, or indeed stand up when we got it in. The tree actually spent Sunday night in our bath before daddy was able to cut it down to size and buy a stand wide enough to support it. Looks lovely though – this is the last one you won’t be here to share with us so we’re getting the practice in!
Christmas Tree

Christmas Tree

To round off the week, mummy and daddy went to Grandad Dean’s and Nanny Di’s in Southampton. As we won’t see them over Christmas, we wanted to see them before the New Year. This was our first time to Grandad’s new house and it was really lovely. You’re lucky to have a grandad by the sea as we can go and visit them and enjoy the beach in the summer time.

Mummy found her dream engagement ring in Bournemouth this weekend too! She had asked uncle Paul for advice but turns out she wasn’t sure what she wanted then. Having looked at millions since, this is definitely the style she’s going for. It’s so beautiful and hopefully mummy will have one on her finger soon!!!!

Mummy's dream engagement ring...

Mummy's dream engagement ring...

Love you loads xx

A treat for mummy, a treat for daddy

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Hello gorgeous little one…

With all this spending in preparation for you to arrive, mummy and daddy are giving themselves a little treat each for Christmas! We’ve managed to convince ourselves that both treats (tangibly) are also for you, so they’ll be guilt-free purchases our end.

Mummy's new camera - Canon 1000d 18-52mm
Mummy’s new camera – Canon 1000d 18-52mm

Mummy’s is a grown-up camera. By the time you read this, digital cameras will have probably been replaced by something new and wonderful – but mummy wants a top of the range starter camera to take gorgeous photos of you, daddy, and the rest of the family. Mummy and daddy take horrendous photos and often look like porkies (even though neither of us really are) with 3 chins each. Right now Daddy takes pictures on his phone (an iPhone – this is the best phone on the market right now) and mummy kind of relies on him to do it. I don’t want to miss a single thing when you are born and want millions of pictures to show your girlfriend/s or boyfriend/s when you’re older. So a little bit of research has shown this to be the bestest camera out there for novices like mummy. Just in case we have a new currency system when you’re born, or you want to laugh at our £ value – it’s going to cost mummy around £200.

Lucky daddy is getting a flash television for the living room. He already has a pretty enormous one, but now he wants an upgrade. He has already upgraded his sound system from a dvd one to a blue-ray one (mummy doesn’t really understand what this means) and now he wants a new television to match. He’s been researching this for ages and mummy will be pleased to get daddy off the internet so she can talk to him again. Daddy has convinced himself that this purchase is due to you coming along – he reckons your arrival means he won’t get as much boy-time down the pub anymore (he only goes there 1 night a week now!) – so he wants a way to spend more cheap evenings in. Mummy is pretending to be moody about this as it’s expensive at £750 – but she doesn’t really mind.

In other news – Aunty Louise came to see us this weekend with Lenny. Lenny was really excited to see your hairy brother Billy and chased him around the house. Mummy felt fine then, but she’s been a bit sicky with you in her tummy ever since. She’s really tired and keeps throwing up. I’m not complaining as I know it’s you trying to get comfortable in there. I haven’t told daddy yet but I’m convinced I can feel you shifting around – it’s like a fluttery sensation. Maybe it’s in mummy’s head as it would be very early, but it definitely feels like you’re partying in there!!!

So on Wednesday it’s first scan time when we’ll get to see you for the first time – mummy will 12 weeks into her term, and we’ll find out exactly how many weeks old you are. A nurse will put some jelly on mummy’s tummy and roll a little plastic thing over our bump. The images from my tummy will then be transmitted onto a screen so we can see you! If there’s two of you in there, this will be the time we find out. It’s a very exciting time and we can’t wait.

So til Wednesday sleep tight and get some rest little one – you’re doing really well and we’re very proud of you for being so well-behaved xx

So… we went to the midwife!

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So it all gets a little more real from here! Today was midwife appointment #1, the first in what looks to be a pretty exhaustive list of appointments in the next 7 (and a bit) months. As it’s only my second day at work, it was a bit of a lunchtime rush to get there on time. Craig picked me up outside work and we rushed through unusually busy traffic to Western Elms Surgery.

Western Elm Surgery, Reading
Western Elms Surgery, Reading

Amazingly my blood pressure was spot on for once! Considering the last few appointments have given erratic results (one week very low, the next very high), it was good to see the pregnancy hasn’t had any adverse effect. She passed no comment on my weight either so I guess she has no major concerns about this. The rest of the appointment was the general do’s and don’ts that we were already familiar with due to our own research.

Next on the list are blood tests on Friday afternoon, then a call to the hospital to book in my 11-13 week scan! REALLY looking forward to this as we’ll actually get to see our little one for the first time. People have told me it becomes far more real after this and I can’t wait. Unfortunately I also have to change doctor’s surgery as Craig and I have moved out of the catchment area for Western Elms. I was really disappointed about this as I’ve been really pleased with them. Appointments are quick and easy, someone always answers the phone, and I really liked Kirstie. I want to do this as soon as possible as it’ll be far easier to get to Tilehurst and register me, than struggle with a pram on the bus in 9 months and try to register me and baby. I also want to meet midwife #2 early so I can get to know her before the appointments come in thick and fast.

I guess the funniest thing to come out of this session was the urine test. Because I forgot to bring a sample to the appointment, I had to provide one before I left. As I’m pregnant, it’s not hard to pee on cue so I thought this would be a breeze. I was handed a little pot and a syringe and off I went. I didn’t give too much thought to the syringe bit until I read the instructions. The idea was to pee in the pot, then suck into the syringe tube for transporting to the hospital. Simple? Oh no. I literally couldn’t work it out. I had to leave my pee in the cubicle and get Craig to help. So Craig entered the toilet (luckily pee was still in situ) and joined the party. As I didn’t want to be interrupted transferring said wee from one pot to another, I locked the door and we tried to follow the Ikea style instructions. I’m sure anyone passing that toilet must have heard us giggling, especially when we squirted it everywhere trying to snap off the plunger bit.

Saved from William Mills
Saved from William Mills

In other news… the new job is going great. I’m really enjoying it and love the people I work with. I don’t seem to be suffering from any nerves there which is lovely – and owed perhaps in part to the fact I’m carrying baby; it’s something I have to be good at for his or her sake.

The new house is also going great. Billy is settling in well and caught us 2 mice yesterday as a moving in present; one sadly died, the other made it out alive thanks to Craig’s shoe. We have sat him down now and asked him nicely to bring us gifts in the early evening, and not 4am as it literally woke us both up this morning!

Right – I’m off to get in an early night as, between the pregnancy and the new job, I’m dead on my feet. Seeing Paul tomorrow to bribe him into doing a quick post at the end of the week to keep everyone updated.

Gems xxxxxxxxxxxx

Has Billy FINALLY got the message?

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So fed up was I of my scatty cat – Paul and I decided to try to tell him about the pregnancy. For a few days now he’s been cuddling up to my tummy and pawing at it. There have been some amazing stories about how cats can sense illness or upcoming events that will impact upon their environment (house moves etc), and usually if I’m poorly, he’ll spend lots of time by my side or sleep beside me. I am therefore convinced of Billy’s psychic abilities and felt ready to break the news.

As previously mentioned, Billy struggles with English. Craig is also convinced he’s a bit ‘mutton’ (deaf – in daddy speak). So we had to come up with a creative and fun way to tell him he’ll have a new brother or sister. I’ve already tried pointing at my stomach and rubbing it animatedly in front of him, but for some reason Billy seems to think this means ‘dinner-time’. I’ve also waved pictures of babies in his face, but unfortunately he just bats at the paper like we’re playing a game. So we decided to meet him on neutral ground and go into ‘his’ garden (he RULES our garden) with props to get the message across.

Here’s how he took the news!

Billy and Mummy - reaction: INDIFFERENCE

Billy and Mummy - reaction: INDIFFERENCE

Unfortunately, at first, Billy didn’t understand the significance of the pregnancy test, and certainly didn’t appreciate the strangle-hold mummy had around his neck. But mummy was determined to get the message across and kept prancing in front of him until it sunk in. Here’s the moment where Billy finally got it – check out the look on his little face!

Billy - reaction: APPREHENSION?

Billy - reaction: APPREHENSION?

Two seconds later he fell off the wall… I’m hopeful that his poor balance is indicative of his excitement…

It’s just one long list of Can’ts

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CAN’T hold it together

I knew I’d be emotional but this is ridiculous! I’m moody, irritable, excited and tearful – all in one big scary bundle. Poor Craig took me to the cinema three days ago only for me to blubber through the entire showing. I turned up with a full face of make-up (liquid eyeliner etc) trying to look remotely glam for Craig. The film starred Seth Rogan (Knocked Up, Pineapple Express), so I’m expecting something funny and targeted at the” beer lout” generation – How wrong was I??? I’m restricted on what I can say as it was a preview screening (meaning the audience were tasked with road-testing the movie; we were made to sign disclosures, the security guards resembled MI5 agents, and Craig was ‘politely’ asked to hand in his iPhone before entering the auditorium doors). All I can say is that I left the Vue in Reading looking like a member of Kiss. My cream cardigan was stained black as I was forced to use it to wipe away my tears (too scared was I to ask agents A, B, E and F if I could get some loo roll from the ladies).

But tears turned to frustration a few days later when Friday’s episode of A Place in the Sun turned out to be a repeat of Thursday’s! What was More 4’s production team thinking??? I went so far as to type  ‘More 4 complaints’ into Google before I realised how stupid I was being!

Not complaining baby – you’re worth it x

CAN’T stay awake

As this rate I’ll be lying in bed for the whole 9 months and being fed through a drip! I know the experts say this fatigue will subside by the second trimester, but personally, I’m doubtful. I’m in bed by 9pm every night! I’ve missed Educating Essex, The Eviction of Dale Farm, Downton Abbey – and a whole host of ‘educational’ programming I’ve been waiting for all week. Why do the terrestrial channels tease us by putting such gems on past the watershed? My dongle credit is dwindling as I’m forced to turn to BBC iPlayer (and the like) to catch up!

Last night I was forced to call out to Craig to plead for a glass of water; I had no energy to even get out of bed and fetch myself one. I’m lucky he’s so good-humoured and sweet. If the situation was reversed, I’d be lifting up the bed covers to see if he still had legs of his own! Speaking of the man of my dreams… Craig ordered the pregnancy books I wanted! I must have been in Waterstones for hours on Thursday – wading through the millions on sale; I figured there must be an ideal bed companion that would teach me enough to earn an honorary degree in obstetrics – the amount of time I’m spending in bed, there has to be some good to come out of it! My list of requirements was therefore exhaustive – I wanted pictures, I wanted diagrams, I wanted daily progress reports, I wanted medical jargon… a tome of a pregnancy manual. Having narrowed it down to two (ISBN numbers scrawled on the back of an old receipt), I came home and trawled price comparison websites to find the best price. Good old Amazon came through. I logged in as Craig, added them to his shopping basket and waited for him to tell me off for accessing his account. Imagine how my heart melted when he came into the bedroom last night and whispered to his sleepy and barely deserving girlfriend that he’d dived straight in and ordered them… I love you Craig xx

Your Pregnancy Bible

Your Pregnancy Bible by Dr Anne Deans

CAN’T smoke!!!! Argh!!!!

I don’t want to complain too bitterly about this. It’s been consistently reiterated to me about the harm it causes to the unborn baby; increased risk of SID, developmental problems, suppressed appetite leading to low birth weights etc. I know it’s wrong, I know they’re cancerous, I know I should quit for myself aswell as baby… but it’s a 15 year habit that’s proving SOOO hard to kick!

Needing some medicinal support, I went (head hung in shame) to the NHS Stop Smoking stall in the Broad Street Mall outside TK Maxx and plead my case to the advisor. I was somewhat optimistically hoping that overnight a new miraculous alliance between science and faith had occurred, and that the NHS now recognised hypnotism as a tried, proven and humane way of curing the afflicted. But of course they would ever make it that easy. I was offered gum, an inhaler, lozenges, even nasal sprays… surely one of these solutions would work for me! But no. When I mentioned my pregnancy, this huge choice of nicotine replacement therapies was diminished to just one. The dreaded PATCHES. How could these flimsy plasters possibly reduce my craving? Just how does said nicotine hit enter my bloodstream and replace my beloved physical cigarette? And (if I’m truthful) how can it possibly be this easy to quit?! If the answer has really been staring me in the face since the naughty’s (remember those adverts with impossibly attractive female jogger karate-kicking human sized cigarettes out of her way) – then how have I wasted thousands of £’s on Mayfair Superking’s ALL these years????! BUT acknowledging this is for the health of my unborn, I pessimistically collected my little prescription headed to Superdrug.

Well… It turns out these patches are genius. I can now stand next to smoker’s in a pub without wanting to rip their cigarette’s out of their hands. I can now make it through the day on 2 cigarette’s (I’ve promised to do away with these remaining little crutches in one week’s time). I can now wake up and not search frantically for a lighter down the back of the sofa. These tiny patches are AMAZING. Their effectiveness isn’t my gripe. What irritates me is the following: They AREN’T truly translucent, and they AREN’T even remotely waterproof as promised. If you were to lift up my sleeve during the day you’ll find a frayed and yellow patch barely clinging to my skin. From afar you’d be forgiven for thinking I have a patch of leprosy.

CAN’T drink!

This is considerably easier for me than not being able to smoke. I’m not as big a drinker as I was before I came home from London and Craig and I only usually drink at the weekends. But when you tell someone you can’t do something, you want it all the more. I’m actually beginning to resent Guinness and Carling for putting on television ads during the Rugby World Cup schedule. Nevermind the fact that I can’t actually stand Guinness. Just stop with the adverts!

And the dreaded weekend… this being my first full weekend knowing I am pregnant. I am literally so jealous of Craig! I know he’s not deliberately drinking in front of me and he has every right to enjoy his weekend after working so hard to provide for us during the week – but I want a beer too! Drinking your body weight in Diet Coke watching the football at the pub, just simply isn’t the same. And Craig is simply rubbish as pretending to be sympathetic and sober. I know every single nuance of his personality; If he’s tipsy, I know it. I’d actually rather he came home stumbling through the door so I could laugh at him and pat myself on the back for being infinitely better off.

I guess I need to get used to this as I’m reluctant to drink around baby after he or she arrives anyway. I hate seeing new mums in pubs downing wine with their child in their arms – it makes me so angry.

CAN’T dye my hair!

At first I thought this was a mistake. When I picked up my bottle of ‘Nice and Easy’ by Clairol yesterday morning, I couldn’t believe they were advising pregnant women against using it! Why? So confused was I,  I Googled it. This made my heart sink:

… One study suggested that it could cause babies to develop the cancer neuroblastoma. This is a rare childhood cancer that affects the nervous system and other tissues… It’s possible that a few of the chemical compounds in hair dyes could cause birth defects…

http://www.babycentre.co.uk/pregnancy

Apparently the above risks decrease as you enter the second trimester. This is because during the first 12 weeks the developing brain generates between 50 and 100 thousand new cells  per second. The hair dye could, in theory, enter the bloodstream through my scalp, and travel to baby!

WHAT????????! Come on now. Really????? I have dark hair – greys show and I’m about to start a new job.  I find this whole rule pretty incredible and there’s conflicting advice everywhere you look. I’ll admit to ignoring this one. Sorry baby but I just don’t believe it.

CAN’T feed my cat!

So my GP advised me against feeding the cat or emptying his litter tray; chores that his mum has performed for all of his life. Again, I couldn’t understand this so turned to Google:

Toxoplasmosis caught during pregnancy can cause an infection in your unborn baby resulting in eye problems and brain abnormalities. Toxoplasmosis is usually caught through eating raw, undercooked or cured meat but it can also be caught through contact with cat faeces and, in rare cases, cat saliva

http://www.babycentre.co.uk/pregnancy

Okay, so there does seem to be considerable medical research supporting this one. In fairness, I’m happy to go along with it too. The smell of Billy’s food makes me feel ill and I wasn’t looking forward to the re-introduction of a litter tray in the new flat. The problem is that I can’t tell Billy about the change in routine; he’s learnt many things in his short life, but the ability to speak English isn’t one of them. So he literally whines, paces and chases my feet ALL day whilst Craig is at work. He’s turned into a lunatic. As if to fully articulate his frustration, he’s become fussy about his food too. No longer is Purina or Iams enough for Billy. Now he likes a variety of wet and dry food and it’s a guessing game as to which he wants on a given day. One day, he wants a Whiskas tin, the next he fancies Felix’s offering. This is literally doing my head in.

Billy

His Royal Highness (as taken by Craig)