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So, leaving my baby. I hate it.

On Wednesday, for the first time ever, Frog will be left with someone she barely knows. Now, before you go thinking I’m being precious and sentimental, I’m not. The work situation and the cost of childcare means that it makes more sense to do radio shifts (where I have to put proper clothes on and leave the house) during school holiday time, when Daddy Daycare steps in.

But every now and again there is an exception to the rule. In order to keep my accountant happy I am forced, occasionally, to take on work from home and work from work during term time. This means that Frog has to go to a childminder.

Now, despite my initial fears, Frog passed her first interview – with flying colours in fact. She was accepted by her new childminder on an “ad hoc” basis, as and when she would need to be looked after. Which isn’t very often really.

But we’ve seen a change in Frog recently. Whether it’s the usual seperation anxiety kicking in, a hangover from last week’s chicken pox or a result of me working endlessly over the school holidays and her barely seeing me, Frog is an insecure wreck.

I walked into our usual baby and toddler group this morning and she started wailing, waving her arms shouting “Up, up” (or “uuuuh uuuuuh”). Inevitably she was fine after a few minutes, once she knew I wasn’t going anywhere. And then she ditched me for her new playmates.

But then we went to the new childminder for “settling in”. Frog started screaming as soon as we got there. In typical fashion she calmed down once she realised I wasn’t leaving her, but the tears started again when there was a loud noise she didn’t recognise, or the childminder got a bit too close. At that point, Frog was literally pulling at my leg, desperate to be in my arms. It would take a stronger woman than I to ignore her.

But that’s exactly what I’ll have to do on Wednesday.

I’ll have to pass her over, screaming, turn around and walk away from her. Knowing she’s beside herself with panic, I’ll have to get into my car and drive to work. And then I’ll have to work for a full eight hours, not knowing how she is, but worrying every moment that she’ll be unhappy and crying.

I’m a nervous wreck.

I know that if our situation was different I’d have had to have leave her in a nursery or with a childminder by now. I know that many parents do it, my own included. I know she won’t suffer any lasting damage.

It’s just that long walk back down the path, towards my car, and that long drive to work. I hate the thought that my baby will be crying and it won’t be me, or her dad, or her grandparents, or any other adult she’s “used to” to comfort her. Hate it.

It’s not even like it’s a regular thing. The crying is something we’ll probably have to endure every time we go to the childminder, because it’s going to be such a random event. There’s no “routine” to settle into, no “getting used to” the situation. And it makes me feel like a terrible mother.

So I want your advice. Have you been in a similar situation? What did you do? Any tips to help stop these heart palpitations would be much appreciated. And don’t suggest wine. I’ve tried that already.

The post I’m leaving my baby appeared first on Mother's Always Right.

Difficult, because Frog has chicken pox and hasn’t been particularly happy about it. And wonderful, because it’s back to school time which means the (self-proclaimed) Northern Love Machine and I swap roles again, with him going out to do his teacher job and me staying at home. Yes it’s back to the juggling of writing while Frog sleeps (which hasn’t been much this week), but at least I actually get to see her, which is a definite bonus.

The chicken pox has put my usually greedy daughter well and truly off her food. She’s even been turning her nose up at the usual favourites of banana and spaghetti bolognaise (not together – that would just be weird).

But the same can’t be said for biscuits.

My diva child has pretty much lived on HiPP Organic apple elephant biscuits this week and HiPP Organic fruit cereal bars. The cereal bars come in two flavours, Peach and Apple and Plum and Apple. The Plum ones seem to be Frog’s favourite.

The biscuits are also rather handy to fend off any chicken pox related meltdowns and seem to go nicely with a cup of warm milk and the beloved magic blanket. We’ve tried them before in fact, and loved them so much we put them in jars for all the babies at the wedding:

The fuit cereal bars have been a welcome accompaniment at breakfast time; the fact they’re GM and Preservative free means I can get away without feeling like a terrible mother for letting my 14 month old have a bar of something sweet with her breakfast.

And they’ve even helped produce a few rare smiles this week:

So if you have a grumpy child, I can highly recommend these snacks from those clever people at HiPP Organic. And guess what? They’ve given me some to give away.

So, read on  if you’d like to win this little lot:

Five winners of this competition will each receive one of the following:

• A box of HiPP Organic Apple Elephant Biscuits
• One HiPP Organic Peach & Apple Fruit Cereal Bar
• One HiPP Organic Plum & Apple Fruit Cereal Bar

To enter, all you need to do is:

• Leave a comment below telling me how old your baby is.

• Tweet (for an extra entry):

“I want to #win @HiPPOrganic goodies in the #giveaway at @mothersright http://bit.ly/mxdGiV”

Terms and conditions:

Competition closes 12noon on Friday 23rd September 2011.

The winner will be contacted within 3 working days of the competition closing.

Open to UK residents only.

Items posted directly by HiPP.

Prize is non-transferrable and there is no cash alternative.

***

Disclaimer: The lovely people at HiPP Organic provided two fruit cereal bars and a box of Apple Elephant Biscuits to review for this post. Obviously they didn’t want them back afterwards. Lucky really, seeing as they’ve all been eaten.

Competition now closed.

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Frog has chicken pox.

There’s something really annoying about chicken pox. It’s not the spots, which probably aren’t too comfortable. It’s not the contagious nature of it, which means a week confined inside the house. And it’s not the grizzles and bad moods it causes.

No, the really infuriating thing about chicken pox is the sleepless nights.

After more than six months of blissful twelve or thirteen hour stretches of deep sleep through the night, Frog has reverted back to her newborn ways. Last night was the worst yet, with a call at midnight, 2am, 4am and 5am. Each “call” lasted around 45 minutes, causing me unrivalled joy. Obviously.

The thing is, all she wants is a cuddle. As her mum, that’s my job. I know she feels a bit rotten (although you wouldn’t know it to look at her during the day, carrying on playing and exploring as usual), so I diligently get up and pad into her room to snuggle up with her as she falls back to sleep in my arms.  Sounds almost pleasant doesn’t it? It’s not. It’s bloody annoying.

This chicken pox fella has ruined my social plans for the next couple of evenings. I was looking forward to a night in London, meeting other bloggers at The Gurgle Blog Awards (I was invited, seeing as I’m a finalist in the funny blog category – despite not feeling too “funny” at the moment), but have had to ditch the glamour in favour of an evening in my pants on the sofa, waiting for the baby to wake.

And we were going to meet up with friends in town tomorrow evening for the (self-proclaimed) Northern Love Machine’s birthday. But that’s been put on hold in favour of an evening at a pub in our village, in case Frog wakes up and terrorises the babysitter. Which is extremely likely.

But that’s what you sign up for when you become a mum, isn’t it? As much as I’d love to sink a couple of cocktails and put a pretty dress on tonight, I couldn’t have fun knowing I’m three hours away from my daughter, who’s screaming the house down with “Mamamamamama” as she writhes around in her cot, just wanting a cuddle from her mum.

Call me soft, but I just can’t do it.

So that’s my weekend sorted then. I’ve got a hot date with the sofa and Mr Chicken Pox. Here’s hoping the cocktails remain faithful to me until next time.

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