O- Operations

I've been very lucky; I have  very healthy boys. As parents we have manged to avoid the painful drama of visiting A&E at daft-a-clock and as health goes the children have had a fairly smooth run (meanwhile us parents continue to fall apart as our immune system plummets under the pressure).

However, my middle, adorable boy has suffered with chronic nose infections since he was born and we finally got forwarded on to a specialist who,without hesitation, booked him him for an op.

I was so focused with him getting better, I didn't absorb the whole "operation" procedure and what, emotionally, this entailed.

So the day we took him it hit me like a wrecking ball in the chest.

The Childrens' Ward is full of heartbreak. No matter how clean or colourful or how many toys, DVDs and smiling nurses, they can't plaster over the fact that children don't belong there. And every colourful wall is darkened by the broken look upon a parent's face.

We had to wait 5 hours on this ward before he went down to theatre, then an agonising hour and a half till he came back. Because I'm breast feeding the baby I had the perfect excuse to opt out of the hard bits; like carrying him down, watching him go under, leaving him there.

But I have three images I'm struggling to shake: his tiny teddy-bear-patterned gown folded on the overbed table; his dad carrying him down, a heavy eyed bewildered expression upon his face; him returning, sleeping silently with a tiny cannula bandaged against his little foot.

That night his dad stayed with him in hospital, I went home and slept with both his brothers in the bed with me. I kept waking in the night finding myself looking for a third child in the bed feeling like "I'd lost something".

Those images, that feeling, remind me how lucky I am. For us it was just two days.

The doors to Childrens' Wards are never still. Tiny veins have seen a life time of needles, beds are changed but rarely empty, some children go in and they don't come back out. I have the up-most respect for parents who have poorly children, parents who are on first name terms with doctors, who have to spend hours, days, weeks, in waiting rooms, waiting for appointments, waiting in children's wards.

Two days was enough for us to feel the strain.

D - Dog Poo

I really cannot stand people who don't pick their dog's shit up. It is the epitome of selfishness; giving two fingers to the community they live in...

... And wherever it is, wherever we are, it's always one of my children who steps in it.

There are only two places where it is acceptable to leave a dog turd:

1. Very long grass off the beaten track
2. The sea

Otherwise pick it up!

I am now all for offenders having their dogs taken off them - and those who think I'm harsh, I suggest you clean two pairs of Croc boots (£30 per pair) and a Bugaboo wheel (£500 of buggy) that is laden with the sticky, stinking, revolting  mess and then come back at me.

Don't even dare to say I should teach my children where they are going - don't even dare to suggest that my children should spend their time outside (in the little freedom this society allows for children) not running, laughing , chasing, giggling skipping or hopping, but instead watching the floor, in case they tread in something a dog owner couldn't be bothered to pick up,

And besides I challenge anyone to walk down the street, with a pram, a buggy board and a child holding onto either side and  ensure all 6 pairs of feet and all 5 wheels avoid a huge, steaming, fly ridden turd that someone has left in the middle of the footpath.

Let me know how you get on.

N- Newborns

I'd already had two babies. I was prepared for number three. "Oh an expert" midwifes would exclaim when I told them I already had two at home.After having two, you are hardened to the world of parenting, but never an expert.

You don't forget the nights, or the nappies, or the first smiles, But there are somethings you do forget about...

I forgot how long you can just look at them for. My mum rang me when my newest addition was 2 weeks old:

Mum: What are you doing?
Me: Just sat here... looking at him.
Mum How long have you been doing that for?
Me: About an hour.

You can just look at them. They may move, or murmur, or flutter their eyes. Or they may do nothing at all. Either way you will be transfixed. Whatever time you have, can be spent just, contently, looking at them.

The other thing I forgot was the five second window. When you have a toddler, the nappy change can take up to half an hour. You start, get half way through, the child escapes and runs off, you retrieve him, you fish out the sudo-creme from under the couch, you misplace the nappy, you get another one,the child has run away again, you retrieve him... etc etc And in this time, you'll be really unlucky if the toddler has an accident.

However, with a newborn you have a five-second window. It's a military operation. Everything must be ready, placed perfectly by your side, you've got to be quick, precise and efficient. You will only take "too long once". Only one second over and they'll have an accident, and if the newborn is a boy, it's likely that accident will hit you in the eye.