Today was a pretty straightforward day. Daftie wanting up hideously early, me winning the battle of wills to get an hour more out of her. I had a small art project planned with Daftie in the morning, after brekkie but before morning nap and walk one. 

One of Wee Daftie’s aunties, my American chum, is doing a fundraising event for her friend’s not for profit organisation. It’s called Band With and it’s about giving a musical education to kids. My pal will be running the Edinburgh half marathon in May and raising money along the way. Part of it is to take a photo with the caption “I’m with Band With”, hashtag it and post on social media. 

This was our effort. Finger painting with a 8.5 month old went about as well you might expect. Bless her. She tried to eat less of it than I thought she would and she definitely enjoyed slapping the paint about the place. 

Oh and my leggings are *slightly* ruined from her painty hands clambering all over me. 

After our endeavours, we headed out to the beach by the house. I figured what with the changeable Scottish weather and the necessity for two walks, staying close by would be a smart idea. And I was right. Not ten minutes after these photos were taken than the heavens opened and hailstones descended upon us. 

Wee Daftie was sound asleep, tucked up not only in Caboo two but also my hoodie, and completely unaware of it all. 

Steps finally completed after walk two was cut short by rain. Luckily, Big Human’s trip to Aberdeen was just a daytrip and he was back in time for dinner and a post Daftie Bedtime wander. Goal achieved thanks to three short walks and lot of Chasing Daftie! 

We had a lie in today! Daftie woke up at 8am…Kind of. She may have tried to wake up at 5 but was convinced otherwise. I can be very persuasive. 

Our day today had only one goal, aside from reaching 10,000, which was to drop some clothes off to JoJo Maman Bebe as part of a fundraiser they are running called “From One Mother To Another”. You basically pack up full outfits and they send them off to families who need them more, either in the UK or Syria. I’m really getting my charity on this month, aren’t I? 

After that, we took advantage of the day and went on some epic wandering about the city again. Daftie slung on my chest, we did a huge loop from the Omni Centre, along Multrees Walk, up South Bridge (with a stop at Yocoko for a ramen lunch), through the Grassmarket, down Lothian Road and then walked the length of Prince’s St, back to the car. There may have been a second stop for cookies along the way. 

Daftie looking for the food she just ate. 

I have briefly mentioned baby-led weaning before as our way of introducing solid food to Wee Daftie. It’s a really interesting concept that is based around encouraging your baby to eat the same food as you are, just edited slightly to make them baby friendly (no honey, no added sugar or salt and no whole nuts) I’ve done far too much research on the topic, as I find so many parts of baby development so interesting and could talk for days about it, but my favourite thing about it is how inclusive it is. We are able to eat meals as a family and no one has to feed the baby as she does it herself. It’s an amazingly messy process and Daftie has taken to it like a duck to water, a pig to mud, a small human to making a mess by smushing food into her face, hands, hair, up her nose…

Just a random picture of a sheep looking over a fence, outside a cafe in the Grassmarket. As you do. 

Both missions accomplished today, steps easily cleared. Lovely day spent with the family. Big Human heads back to Aberdeen tomorrow so very blessed to have had such a good day today.

The lesser spotted Daftie in her natural habitat, surrounded by paper she’s found and mangled.

The problem with tricking your eight and a half month old baby into sleeping early one evening, is that they will then try to rise EVEN EARLIER than previous attempts the next day. Fortunately, Mammy is more stubborn than Wee Daftie and she was dissuaded from waking up for the day at 4:30 this morning. 

(Not actually 4:30am footage but she is lovely when she naps, snoring like a pig) 

Thanks to my darling Numbnuts suggesting a nice and middle class morning, all my steps were actually reached by 2pm today. This is definitely a first and quite an accomplishment.

We met at the farmer’s market on Castle Terrace at 10am. I was a little bit early so Daftie and I took a wander along King’s Stables Road, through the Grassmarket and looped back to the market. 

Edinburgh is so fricking pretty. I mean, just gorgeous. I remember when I was running the cafe, this American woman waxing lyrical about how Edinburgh was one of the few places she had been to that even looked good in the rain. I have to admit I agree. It was a misty, moisty morning, when cloudy was the weather, but the city still looked stunning.

After fantastically delicious, and quite posh, sausage rolls were procured, we had a wander in search of coffee and then went on the most random ramble about the city. It was that lovely aimless walking where you cover more ground than you realise. All very good for my daily goal, all very good for Cancer Research. 

Lazy afternoon and evening of avoiding watching the rugby (my nerves would not have lasted), making dinner and baking bread. This is what Saturdays are for. Says she while she currently is on hiatus from the service industry she knows and loves. 

Proof again of why I call her Daftie. Actual pose while Big Human feeds her Mammy milk in a bottle. My Wee Daftie.

Happy St Patrick’s Day! Me and my half Irish Daftie hope you have had a great day. 

We had a day that started off well, got a bit annoying and ended up brilliantly. 

The day began normally enough. Daftie waking up early and me wishing she wouldn’t. I try to pretend to sleep, she slaps my tummy, while giggling. Up, brekkie, shower and music class.

Daftie decided at the end of class today that she wanted to show off her crawling abilities and approached Rachel, the class leader, practically with open arms. It was a very sweet moment and proof that yet again, if Wee Daftie likes you she likes you.

Remember how I proud I was of my wrist tracker and my ability not to lose my wrist? Well. I would like salt and vinegar on my words so that I may eat them. Guess what I lost today on the way home from Morrison’s? No, not my wrist. I am still physically in tact. So, in an uncharacteristic change of plans (!) my steps today were easily completed walking the length of the Waterfront three times, looking for the tracker. Silver lining, I guess. 

I don’t​ often use the buggy but it seemed a better idea than Caboo two for searching purposes. This is her genuine face. Bless her. 

To indulge a bit more from yesterday’s post, my sister sent me a couple more photos from our Manchester trip last year today. This massive bunny arse, made entirely of chocolate, languishing in Piccadilly was one. The other is much more special. 

On 16th March 2016, after Numbnuts had picked me up from the clinic, we went for a walk and a coffee, talking it all over. I remember saying to her, “I don’t feel 24 weeks pregnant. I certainly don’t look it, do I?” To which, with her own brand of honesty (she calls a spade a spade, and then hits you with it, does my friend), she said, “You really don’t. And we both know I’d tell you.” She really would. 

17th March 2016, my sister and I met in Manchester airport, checked into our hotel, went for a huge walk and talked a lot. That night, after dinner, we were back at the hotel room. I hear my sister giggle and then a flash. 

Apparently, all it took was finding about Daftie and telling my family the news for my body to give up hiding it. Suddenly a bump had appeared. I swear it hadn’t been there the previous day. But this is the first sighting of the Stealth Ninja Baby.

Not any better close up. 

Back to today. Big Human came home from Aberdeen so I could have a cheeky Daftie free evening to go and see Stewart Lee with Simon. We have seen Stewart Lee four times at this stage and he is always so good. Lovely way to end a frustrating day (I don’t much care to lose things), especially coming home to my humans. 

Steps smashed but no tracker or drops. Still a winner of a day. 

Word of warning. The following post may be more sentimental and less amusing than previous posts. Read on at your own peril…

Today is an anniversary for me and my humans. It was this day last year that I found out that I was expecting. This came as a shock for many reasons. The main one being that I had been told (warned? advised?) that, thanks to my broken pituitary gland, it would be highly unlikely that I would ever have kids. Like almost impossible. 

The tests I had done when I was 22 showed that I didn’t produce enough, if any, of the right hormones to help my cycle perform every month. I would only menstruate 2/3 times a year but never with any regularity. I took the combined pill when I was younger which did “regulate” things but I also felt hideous on it as I suddenly had hormones.  Bad hormones. Not that I knew this at the time, of course. I came off the pill when I was 22 and it was then that my body went back to the super long cycles and I went for a visit to a consultant to see what was up. 

I never ever really considered feeling sorry for myself over the possibility of never being a Mammy when the consultant told me the news. I was too young, too selfish, too busy exploring life by myself to consider motherhood. I also made a considered effort not to dwell on it and cross that bridge when confronted with it. I came off the pill in response to ending a long-term and controlling relationship so starting my own family was definitely not on the horizon. 

You can understand my surprise when, ten years later, the home pregnancy test came back positive. Even more alarming for me as I had only taken the damn thing so I could tell the doctor that I wasn’t pregnant. Oh the irony. Wait. Is that ironic? Or is more like finding a black fly in your Chardonnay? 

Wednesday 16th 2016 started with a trip to the Sexual Health Center. I figured going there would make more sense as I had zero idea of when I would have conceived. My Big Human had been working a few contracts abroad so we hadn’t seen lots of each other recently but I was also aware that a complete lack knowledge of my own cycle meant any guessing a date would just be that. A guess. 

I will save the details of that morning at the clinic for another day but suffice to say, everyone I met with that day was amazing. The support and kindness and laughter and complete care they had for me and my weird situation was outstanding. From the first Nurse who assessed me, to the lovely Dr Eliza and Dr Hunter to laughed at my outrageous potty mouth and my habit of apologising for crying so much, through the nurses who sat with me and made sure that Numbnuts knew where to find me when I needed someone to pick me up, to the radiologist who had the task of telling me that I was not just pregnant but 24 weeks. 

Let that sink in.

24 whole weeks. Almost 5 months. Only 16 weeks to prepare for our baby. 

I had managed to work through all of December with only two days off, pregnant. I worked continuously through the Christmas and New Year period, 60+ hours a week, pregnant. I had managed to go almost half a year, pregnant. And I had no idea. Not a clue. Not an inkling. Not one part of me thought that this would ever be a reality. But it was. And it has been. And I am so grateful. And blessed. And joyful. 

There have been a million adjustments to make. It was an interesting time telling everyone. It’s been fun having a brilliant story to tell about my Stealth Ninja Baby. 

This photo was actually taken two days after I found out about Wee Daftie, by my sister. We were in Manchester together and it was so good to be able to tell her in person so soon after finding out. We even managed to have a Skype with our other sister while we were away. I love this photo as not only does it remind me a fab holiday with my sister, it also shows me looking so happy during a really weird, scary and confusing time. Which I was. I still am. Happy I mean. And weird. Sometimes scary. Definitely confused. 

Back to business. Steps smashed today after a ropey start, thanks to rain and a broken umbrella that I didn’t realise was broken til much too late in our walk. Had a super day with my Beauty, one of Daftie’s many honourary Aunties. Lots of walking, plenty of chatter, spot of lunch. No vitamin drops. 

So I made really incredibly ugly gnocchi for dinner tonight. They tasted good and Wee Daftie seemed to like them. She systematically sucked the sauce from them, put them to one side and then went to finish them off once they were all sauceless. 

She. Is. A . Weirdo. 

It was another lovely, pointlessly early start for us today. Wednesday mornings are baby sensory and, as Wee Daftie is so mobile these days, we have been moved up to the bigger baby class at 10am. I have mixed feelings about this as I know it’s better for her to be able to roam around with the other babies. Selfishly though, I miss my Mammy Mates in our old class. I’m not saying these other mammies aren’t as nice (I am) or that they aren’t friendly (they’re not) but I am saying that I prefer the ladies in the other class (I definitely do).

Still, it’s better for Daftie and that is the important thing. (Is it though?) 

After a rigourous class, involving a game of musical statues (we were the statues and the music was Cotton Eyed Joe. Amazing), we went to meet my Mammy Mates from my antenatal class. We met in play cafe in Gilmerton. I am always in two minds about baby centric places but, I have to admit, they are a bit fab. It’s just super relaxed and fun to know you’re in a space where your baby can roam and squeal and cry and literally no one cares. Well. I’m sure we *care* when our babies cry. Probably.

I am just going to put it out there. I love my Mammy Mates. I am so, so blessed to know them. And I adore their awesome babies. Our babies don’t really interact much yet. They’re all a bit young but when you do see them staring at each other or reaching out a hand, gah! So lovely. I just hope our babies like each other as much as we like their mammies. Super awkward otherwise. 
The trip home was a bit of a trek but Daftie had a good sleep on the bus, which was nice.

The long day did knacker us both out a bit. As you can tell from the single most unflattering picture of my girl, slumped on the sofa, fresh out of Caboo two.

Smashed my steps today. I planned to get off the bus a couple of stops early to finish them off. Which was a great idea but I misjudged the stop and ended up with a 40min walk, rather than the 20mins I had estimated! Still, every step counts. 

And still no vitamins. Bad Mammy. 

Two weeks in already! Where has the time gone? Seems like it’s just walked me by! No? I have a feeling I may be telling a lot more terrible jokes today. 

The blackout curtain is working really well. On one hand, Wee Daftie has been settling herself down as soon as the light goes off. I assume it’s thanks to the room being so dark that there is nothing to distract her. On the other hand, it had made no difference to her new trend of early waking. 5:50am she threaten me with this morning! So it was a loving wresting match, sorry cuddle, to coax an hour more out of her and then a bop on my noggin to get me up. 

We had a couple of errands to run and then we met up with a wonderful gal pal of many years. We used to work together in the cafe I ran years ago but have remained close ever since. She once even tried to leave me by moving back to America but I found her a husband here so she had to move back. I may be being a bit liberal truth here. (Not much though) 

We went for an incredibly windy walk up Calton Hill, one of my most favourite places in Edinburgh. The views are just stunning. You can see for miles and take in the entire range of the city from one vantage point. Just amazing. Edinburgh is such an eclectic mix of green, hills, trees, historical buildings, new architecture, red brick, grey, horrible old corrugated iron blocks of flats, so many spires. So, so superb. I never get bored of it all. 

Steps very joyfully met, ably assisted by my Wee Daftie and my Sista from Another Mista. My calves are definitely feeling the strain from walking into the headwind though…And I may have forgotten about the vitamin drops again. 

Look at that sunshine though! Loadsa vitamin D.

Another day, another morning of Wee Daftie waking up at 6:30am. Now. I am aware that small humans have a tendency to wake early in the morning. And, when Daftie first arrived, I was more than prepared to adjust my night owl ways (working mainly closing shifts in a pub does that to you) and in the very early days, she was up by 7am and quite happy. In more recent months, 8am was the golden hour. It’s not unusual for a baby to change their pattern but it always catches you on the back foot and makes you question everything you did the previous day, to try and analyse what made the new day different. 

I have yet to solve any of these mysteries.

Oh 8am how I miss you. Anyway, we had a class to go to at 2pm and I had to nip to the post office so we had another morning of household stuff as I knew I would be able to get lots of lovely walking done while we were out. 

On days when I have things that need done, I’ve been fitting in my steps by getting off buses earlier, walking to the supermarket rather than getting the bus. It’s been super. 

I noticed this small river and bridge today along a path I walk frequently. I always love making small discoveries like this in places that are so familiar.

Wee Daftie woke up in Caboo two on the final stint of our walk home today, which is usually totally fine but it meant her nap was a little shorter and she woke up on the verge of needing a feed. Solution? Singing the songs of Mary Poppins to her. 

Good thing I don’t embarrass easily, seeing as we had to walk past a couple of building sites and car shops. Still, a sung at baby is a happy baby! 

Steps happily achieved, housework done, leftovers for dinner, fruit bread baked. Lovely day with my favourite idiot.

Daftie has started teething again. You can as her dribbles have turned her vest transparent. 

So we bought a blackout curtain to try and coax Daftie into more stable sleep and potentially dissuade her from waking too early, as the days start to get longer.

My day started at 6:30 this morning.

Taking advantage of the pretty decent spring weather, my Humans and I went to one of my favourite places, North Berwick. As it’s a bit of a drive, we planned our trip around her naps. And, seeing as we had been up at not-my-favourite-time o’clock, we had lots of time at home for brekkie and lazing about before heading on our way. 

Let’s not talk about vitamins drops, shall we?

Caboo two allows for back carrying so when we’re out and about, I have it in my head that it’s more fun for her to have a decent vantage point. Not a tall vantage point, just one where she can have a good nosy. 

The weather was warm enough for an ice-cream while we walked but too cold for paddling. I did tentatively dip a finger in the water, which was glorious and calm, only to retreat like a screeching banshee. 

Speaking of wailing noises, Wee Daftie has definitely found her voice lately. Pretty much at the same time as she found her feet. It’s generally just a random noise, to remind us that she exists, and occasionally I harmonise with her which she find hilarious. Most of the time though, it resembles the intro to the “Immigrant Song”. 

Steps happily hit today. Big Human heads back up to Aberdeen tomorrow so it’ll just be us gals for the week. 

Too good not to share. 

Big Human is home for the weekend so it was a nice and lazy morning with much domestic goddess-ness from yours truly, while Daftie and Daddy had hanging out time. This mainly involves Big Human constantly repeating “No. Don’t touch the controller.” “Please don’t pull the battery out.” And “That’s a live charger cable. No. Don’t put it in your mouth!” With the occasional “How?!” thrown in, as Small Human looks up expectantly, smiling and crawling over Big Human. 

I just left them to it and did some epic cooking. I really like our kitchen to cook and bake in. Big Human claims that I have banished him from his own kitchen. Which is true. But I try not to let on that I’m proud of my minor mutiny. Thanks to Baby Led Weaning, I am thoroughly enjoying feeding Wee Daftie. No puree for this family! It’s a wonderful process, disgracefully messy and completely suits our family. 

Walk one today just involved shopping for a few bits and pieces (BABY PROOFING HAS BEGUN), with another lovely post Daftie Bedtime wander. I am really getting into the swing of this. And ever since I worked out how the wrist tracker works, it’s fun to track my progress.

I took a path I like to walk which goes down a slightly creepy road, leading to a walkway that ends up at another development nearby. The walkway is lit by large street lamps so I treat it as my own personal catwalk. I channel my inner Drag Queen and strut. 

For those in the know, the Queen in question is always Katya. Always.