A Funny Adventure in Disciplining a Two Year Old.

Not long after she turned 2, Mush started to have ‘naughty’ spells. No longer was her mess unintentional, her disobedience due to a lack of understanding or her tantrums pent up frustration – she was now choosing to do the thing she shouldn’t.
My warnings of ‘don’t touch that plug socket’ would cue a slow and cocky retreat back to said plug socket with unwavering eye contact as one little finger reached out to touch it.
Restrictions such as ‘no, you can’t ride in the front of the car on Mummy’s lap’ would illicit a 15 minute tantrum, sprawled on the floor, flailing limbs everywhere, real tears and silent screams, in the contrived lulls of which Mush would offer various terms of negotiation until reaching an acceptable outcome (listening to Let It Go on repeat for the 40 minute car journey).
After dumping the contents of the Lego box on the living room floor then moving on to the play kitchen, a request of ‘Mush, please tidy the Lego first’ would ensure possum like behaviour of running, hiding and playing dead. It never ceases to amaze me how a toddler can morph from a miniature and carry-able human being to a hippo with several extra limbs when they do not wish to be moved.
Yes, Mack and I had to have the chat. How were we going to get Mush to toe the line? Anticipating that she’d try and play us off against each other we knew we needed a consistent approach to discipline. Indeed, she was already so clever that when denied something by one parent she’d immediately pipe up that the other said it was ok. If only she was astute enough to not say “Daddy said I could have chocolate even if I didn’t eat my broccoli” in front of the 2 of us , at the table we were all three of us eating!
After a bit of research, our weapon of choice was the naughty step. Whereby we initiate a count down by the end of which Mush must undertake the desired behaviour and, if not initiated, then 2 minutes on the naughty step would follow. Should she talk or cry or move the time would start again. Once she’d completed her 2 minutes we’d have a quick consolidation chat and then a cuddle. If Supernanny could do it then so could we. Especially as our little terror was largely an angel.
And for a period, the outlook looked good. Every naughty episode was met with the count down and we never got to 1 before she did as she was told. Whilst amused that Mush was perturbed by a count down to a punishment she knew not of, we patted ourselves on the back for a job well done. Until, that is, the count down alone didn’t work.
Inevitably it was when we were out in public, with Mack’s brother, fiancé and 4 year old. Not the perfect setting for our first foray into formal discipline, not least of all due to the absence of stairs. But our hands were tied; we had to follow through. So with an audience and no idea how this was going to play out we set to, expecting paddy central. Every parent can appreciate the stress of a toddler who refuses to stop a screaming tantrum in public (and of course every toddler knows the power of a well located tantrum). We were not thrilled at the prospect.
Consequently at an ice cream farm café in front of a busy Saturday’s customers, the naughty step became a naughty chair in to which we fought our possessed child whilst explaining the rules of the time-out. We started the timer on Mack’s phone and told her that the blue line had to go around the circle before she could play again. We had to restart it twice but it worked and pretty quickly and painlessly too. The time-out gave her the breather she needed, she said sorry, gave us both a kiss and resumed saint like playing. Well, she’d stopped trying to shoplift stuff off the shelves.
Fantastic! We congratulated each other smugly and emerged confident that we were armed with an effective weapon in the great war of the terrible two’s.
Subsequently, 2 days later when Mush refused to sit at the dinner table we immediately started the count down to time-out, certain we would be happily eating tea in no time. Only Mush had thought up a trump card that we had in no way predicted. “3… 2… 1,” we count down followed by zero movement from Mush to sit at the table but before we can initiate Operation: Naughty Step she gleefully jumps up and down, laughing and clapping  before excitedly asking, “does this mean I can have a time out Mummy Daddy? Can I start the timer?”
What, the actual fuck? We look dumbfounded at each other at the predicament we’ve found ourselves in. By giving her the time-out, she’s getting what she wants. But we’ve told her that that’s the deal so unless we want to seem fickle, we need to go through with it. We have no choice but to seemingly play exactly into Mush’s hands. And Braticus bloody knows it. So off we go, her skipping smugly to the naughty step and us following futiley behind her, fighting the urge to laugh. We start the timer (small win) and she just angelically sits there for the duration and then kisses us as the buzzer sounds before trotting off to sit at the table.
Not only that, she now gives time-outs to her teddies (it’s overtaken classic make believe games like playing doctor and putting all her teddies to bed) and when she knows she’s being cheeky she even asks for a time out.
The student has become the master.
As bizarre as out discipline routine has now become, it does still seem to bring about compliance, so we are persevering but the sting is some what removed by the fact that we feel like we are now rewarding bad behaviour with 2 minutes of our daughter’s favourite pastime. And our little, evil genius knows it!

Bobal’s Babble: We Are Only Renting; a Poem.

You tumbled into Daddy’s arms.

He placed you upon my chest.

Over my beating heart.

My heart beats for you.

Your eyes, unusually wide and black

Held our attention. Unwaveringly.

You are perfect.

                                                                                                                                                                                                We are now complete and

We want for nothing.

But one day you will.

One day you will want.

Want more than our choices for you.

And what’s more

We want you to want that.

                                                                                                                                                                                               Our love culminated in you.

You are our pretty, effectual bow.

We will forever more be bound

Through you.

Faced with our last day

We’d want it that way.

Just us three.

                                                                                                                                                                                                For a while

Too short a while

You are most content in our arms.

We are the Earth you orbit

And you ours.

But not forever.

One day, our Little Moon, you will leave.

                                                                                                                                                                                               You will start your own family.

For your last days

It’s them you’ll crave.

After all

We are only renting you.

We can’t keep you.

You must fly the nest.

                                                                                                                                                                                               Just us three will always be, our happy day.

But it can’t last.

The amelioration

which has already begun

will no doubt, be full of joy.

As we teach and you explore

We only hope you’ll make life your own.

                                                                                                                                                                                                And then Precious Daughter, You will go.

Go out there.

See the sights. Meet the people.

Conquer the challenges. Enjoy the ride.

We will be here

Happy for You.

Learning once more to be just us two.

                                                                                                                                                                                          Knowing that

We are only renting

Means it is all the more cherished.

Each chapter, whilst fleeting, is treasured.

We hope this means we won’t stifle.

We want only for your flame to burn

In its own fantastical way.

                                                                                                                                                                                                We don’t hope to buy you. You were never Ours.

Always your own.

Our privilege, is to guide and teach.

Arm you with that which you need to get on.

We’ll expose you to lots, recommend and advise.

But in the end

Your path’s your own.

                                                                                                                                                                                                  As you once fell into Daddy’s arms

You’ll fall into a world of your own creation.

You’ll triumph. You’ll fail.

And that’s OK.

We’ll always be here to catch you.

After all, We’re only renting.

But you own us.

Every. Single. Brick.

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Bobal’s Babble: The Tale of the Mummy, the Mush, the Aunty and the Poo Raison. *warning – graphic content*

Hello, howdy, good day!

I appreciate we’ve been MIA over the past several… well months! But turns out a one year old keeps you more than busy!

Mush continues to brighten even the dullest of days with her quirky little traits. Such as when Mack or I are talking to someone, say a neighbour about the weather and mid conversation Mush’ll just shout “bye” and start waving. Or her extremely frustrating tendency to ask you to read book after book, listening attentively to each and every page until you reach the last page where she promptly jumps off your lap to fetch another book leaving you either feeling completely unsatisfied or shouting the last few lines of the story at a retreating baby butt. Or there’s her unparalleled love for emptying the dishwasher; how each of her plates, spoons and cups need to be licked before being put away in the cupboard and the last item she empties has to accompany her on her travels for the rest of the day. She’s a bundle of bizarre and we love it!

I could go on and on but I’ll leave you with this blog’s namesake story. Mush’s Aunty was visiting this week and volunteered to do bath time. Once Mush is settled in the bath, Aunty starts playing with her when Mush starts to trump.

“Bobal” Aunty shouts down the stairs “she’s pumping! She won’t poo will she?”

“Not likely” I assure her “she’ll squat if she’s going to anyway so just keep an eye on her.”

So Aunty and Mush happily get on with water fun. Rory laughing at her own bath farts and Aunty laughing at Mush’s inappropriate giggles. Only for Mush to suddenly Stand and Deliver… a poo!

Well panic stricken Aunty yells, “it’s happened.” I leg it up the stairs – kitchen towel and wet dish still in hand to survey the carnage. Bath toys, baby, poo bits and bath water are swirling around the bath, Aunty is dry heaving in the corner and Mush is laughing and splashing chaotically, seemingly having grown 8 more limbs and a sudden but single minded determination to drink the bathwater. Chaos ensues with me holding a naked and laughing Mush above the bath water yelling “do you want the baby or poo bits? Baby or poo?” Aunty opts for baby and sticks her on the potty whilst I futilely try and scoop poo out of the bath with another bath toy before all the toys are contaminated.

As Mush is now happily sat on the potty, Aunty also tries to rescue some of the toys, naively taking her eyes off daemon child. Well, sensing this is her big moment, Mush swiftly stands up, side steps 30 cms, squats and poos on the floor next to the potty.  Aunty drops all the rescued toys back in the poo bath to their demise in an effort to put Mush back on to the potty and clean up the floor poo given that I am elbow deep in bath poo.

Aunty skilfully manages to encase most of the poo in a wet wipe and put it in the toilet. That is most of the poo save for an undigested poo raison. Mush calculating, observes that I am busy navigating poo bath and Aunty is navigating floor poo so she lunges for the poo raison. Aunty and I both lurch for her arm, bath toys forgotten and manage to stop it reaching her mouth and then we prise open her chubby little fist to retrieve said poo raison. Bad idea. Mush’s only wish on Earth is to eat the poo raison and she immediately stiffens her body, throws her head back and let’s out an almighty paddy.  The biggest and loudest tantrum she has ever had. That poo raison was the most important thing in the world and nasty Mummy wouldn’t let her eat it.

Suffice to say once we’d finally got the little monkey in bed, the salvageable toys in the dishwasher, the bathroom scrubbed and ourselves washed; Aunty was significantly less enthusiastic about the prospect of doing another bath time and I haven’t eaten a raison since.

For more disgusting tales see Extreme Baby Flatulence or My Disgustometre or follow us on:

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Bobal’s Babble: The Routine of a Baby that sleeps through the night.

Before I get started, note that I am not a baby whisperer! I believe that whether your baby will sleep through the night or not is as much down to nature as it is to nurture so whilst Mush‘s sleeping can in part be credited to our routine, ultimately she’s probably a baby who likes her sleep. That being said, I know how much I’d have liked to have read a blog about a bedtime routine before we had Mush (mainly because I am nosy!) so here it is. Feel free to ignore it or steal bits that suit.

Mush is breastfed and we’d read everywhere that this meant that she would not sleep through the night for various reasons so we steeled ourselves for this eventuality but still imposed a routine from day dot. The routine seems to be working as Mush is now nearly 5 months old and has slept a solid 12 hours through the night since she was 11 weeks old.

Hopefully, these tips will be useful to those parents who are expecting or to long suffering parents (one of my Mummy friends is just imposing a routine with her 5 month old baby and after a few difficult days it seems to be working). I know when we were expecting, we looked into establishing a routine and the advice seemed to either support extended crying out or sleeping in a bed with your baby until they go to school. We just pinched ideas a little from here and a little from there and it hasn’t felt too harsh or too relaxed as a result.

Tip 1: differentiate between night and day.

We kept the lights on and didn’t quiten daily activities through the day but at the start of the bedtime routine lights were dimmed and it was hushed noises all round.

Mush is one of those babies who does not want to miss out so she is not really a day napper (unless the hoover’s on! You’ve got to love a bit of white noise!). If she does nap it tends to be on us (or an ever eager family member!) or for a short cat nap but take away all that stimulus at night and she sleeps a solid 12 hours most nights.

Lights out at night therefore means lights out at night meaning that all nappy changes and night feeds were done by the light of a night light only and we were careful not to stimulate Mush by talking to her or cuddling excessively. This means that Mush knows that it is night-time now and so night-time rules apply.  We did this for every time she woke up before 7 am. Yes, it can be tedious feeding a baby in the dark or not switching the TV on to entertain you but I believe it’s paid dividends!

And as soon as morning time arrived (7 am in our household) if she woke after that; lights would go on and we’d engage with her thus telling her that it’s daytime so day-time rules apply.

Tip 2: cluster feed.

I’ve no idea how this relates to formula feeding but in respect of my breastfeeding, I feed on demand. During growth spurts this can be every hour through the day and come the 2 hours before bedtime I try to squeeze an extra feed or two in (cluster feeding). This quite simply seems to keep her fuller for longer allowing her to sleep that extended stretch at night.

Tip 3: have a routine and stick to it

For the first 3 weeks of Mush’s wonderful existence,  she fed round the clock so we didn’t start bedtime routine until 9 ish so that we could go to bed with her after that. Indeed, she would normally do her longest period of sleep in that first stint and believe you me – we wanted to reap the full benefit of it. Then when we realised that hours 7-9 were Mush’s crankiest we brought bedtime routine back to a 7 o’clock start with the view of putting her down separately to when we went to bed. In each eventuality  the routine was the same:

– cluster feed 2 hours before bed
– bath
– baby massage
– pj’s
– feed
– bed

A big believer of routine as I am, I still think that you should keep it flexible meaning if you need to pick a later bedtime or skip bath because you’re out and about late – do that (although try and have an uninterrupted routine for a few weeks to really get it to stick) and let your routine evolve to suit your family’s needs. For instance Mush is now out of her baby bath (cue mummy whimper) so we’ve made bath time more of a play time as opposed to the zen-like soak it once was. But the rest of the routine remains unchanged meaning that this one change has not upset the routine.

Don’t get me wrong – imposing a routine with a reluctant baby is not easy.  The first week we tried the 7 o’clock bedtime Mush didn’t settle until 1 am! But we persevered and we’re consistent throughout. It’s also so much easier if you have a partner you can tag in who will take the exact same approach so that there’s consistency and you get a rest.

Tip  4: encourage baby to self sooth.

Before Mush was born, I was convinced that I would be able to let my baby ‘cry it out’ to establish a bedtime routine. Then I had Mush and can’t bear to hear her crying especially not upstairs all alone. In fact the first time we managed to put her to bed and we come downstairs I cried because I missed her! But I think it’s so important to allow your baby to learn to self sooth as let’s face it you can’t always be there to comfort your little one (for instance Mush screams the entire trip whenever we drive anywhere and I can’t pick her up and cuddle her whilst I’m driving).

Lucky for us – no crying out has been required for Mush as she developed thumb sucking as a means of comfort and this is how she sooths herself to sleep. What ever their poison (dummy, a specific blanket or head tossing etc) if they can get themselves to sleep by themselves then that’s better for everyone.

I think this can be encouraged by trying to put your baby down in the basket/cot/bed awake. We struggled with this at first as Mush would often fall asleep during feeding or during the 20 mins post feeding where we had to keep her upright because of her reflux. That being said – quite often she’d wake up when placed in her basket but then nod off quickly.

Another way is to not become a slave to your baby’s cry. We know the difference between Mush’s grumbling and her crying and we’d only seek to comfort her for the latter and would usually give it a minute or 2 before going in to her. Once in the dark quiet room we’d offer comfort in her basket first – head strokes/hand holding or shushing and if the crying continued we’d pick her up until she calmed down and then place her back down. In the early days we’d sometimes need to feed her again.

Tip 5: don’t lose heart.

We’ve managed to employ this routine away from home or after out of whack days and it’s worked but sometimes your baby just doesn’t want to play ball. The night before Mush slept through she was up every 2 hours and then the next night it just happened but having that routine already in place has hopefully created an environment where Mush can sleep through if able. She still has bad nights – I write this on the back of such a night where she was up 5 hours due to teething. But whilst it’s tempting to start bedtime earlier tonight or try and go back to bed now, we know that it’s better for us all to plough on with the routine. Mush knows what to expect and so do we and that is less stressful all round.

This is just one mother’s experience but hopefully you’ve gained one or 2 helpful hints or at least the reassurance that there is light at the end of the tunnel, even for a breastfed baby.


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Mack’s Mindless Musings: My Daughter’s Greatest Love

I feel like I have a reasonable understanding of what love is. I love my wife, my work, family, pets, food and chocolate!  I do what I can to focus on the positive, avoid the negative and surround myself with the things I love.

Equal top of that list, with Bobal, is Mush. I loved my daughter from the moment she entered this world and I can’t imagine my life without either of them. However none of that compares to Mush’s greatest love. Her greatest love isn’t Mummy or Daddy, boob or weeing on daddy at 3am (although this act did induce her first smile). Her greatest love is her… LETTERS!

She loves them hard. Her love for these letters is a love I couldn’t even begin to comprehend, it’s the kind of emotion most people dream of having but have no chance in hell of attaining.


If she is crying, take her to her letters. If she is tired, take her to her letters. If she needs changing, feeding or  burping, take her to her letters.

They never fail to put a smile on her face. You’re probably thinking why don’t I just feed and change my baby (bad parent)? I normally do, I just wanted to test the theory.

Wouldn’t it be great to see the world through a child’s eyes just for one day, I think we would all appreciate the little things more in life if we did.

For any parents out there wanting to test the letter theory we got ours from Amazon at:



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Bobal’s Babble: The Skinny About Breastfeeding and How I Survived (an honest account)

I knew from even before I was pregnant that I wanted to try and breastfeed my baby. Once I was expecting, I undertook heaps of research into it so as to try and prepare myself for what to expect and I seemingly encountered only 3 different types of information. The judgemental ‘breast is best’ type article which lambasts any person who can’t/won’t breastfeed. The glamourous pieces which focus on getting your figure back and feature photographs of beautiful celebrities breastfeeding their children whilst having their faces made up (yes Giselle, I am talking about you)! Or, the fluffy, earth mother type post which focus on the bond with baby and depict naked ladies sitting in streams whilst breastfeeding their babies.

Mack and I also attended the NHS Breasfeeding workshop which took us through the biology of breastfeeding, the dos and don’ts for breastfeeding, what support the NHS could offer for breastfeeding mothers and how partners could get involved (Mack was keen to support in any way he could but I suspect the thing that most stuck in his mind from this class was the knitted boobs)! I found the class fairly helpful although it was still given with a hint of judgment of formula feeding mothers and, if you are a google-aholic like me, the subject matter was all stuff you will have already found out in your own research. In hindsight, none of these sources came close to advising me or preparing me on how I would feel, once Mush arrived. I therefore hope that this blog can bridge that gap or atleast serve to remind me should I become pregnant again.

I was really fortunate in my labour and birth. I got the natural birth I wanted and Mush was born a healthy 8lb 5.5ozs and was awake and alert straight away. This meant she latched onto my nipple as soon as she was put on my chest. Ofcourse, I was that weak from labour that I couldn’t support her weight but a helpful midwife held her in place and then Mack took over so that Mush could take her first feed. Now, from my research, I can tell you that that first feed is not milk (this comes in later) but rather colostrum – concentrated goodness as I like to call it. I felt so proud that Mush had latched straight away and it felt so lovely (and dare I say ‘natural’ without sounding like a total hippy) to hold her and feed her for that first time.

From class I knew that Mush’s tummy was tiny so I expected to feed little and often. I did not expect that Mush would stay, quite happily, latched onto my nipple for sometimes an hour at a time. I also did not expect her little suck to be so bloody powerful; akin to holding the hoover attachment to your leg (we all did that as kids right?). We were fortunate to be released (from hospital, not jail) the same day as Mush’s arrival which was lovely. It was also nerve-wracking as we found we didn’t actually have a clue what we were doing (no amount of research can keep this feeling at bay) especially with breastfeeding. Here’s the lowdown on my experience with breastfeeding and the methods I employed to survive.

Mack and I aimed to feed Mush at least every 3 hours through the day (waking her up if necessary) and every 4 through the night but Mush wanted to feed much more than that. Mush just liked being on boob (as her feeding soon became known in the Mack-Bobal household). She would stay put for 40 minutes a time and fall asleep in my arms. She would (and often still does) feed every hour. This epic feeding caused me all kinds of problems.

(TMI WARNING) Sore, cracked and bleeding nipples caused pain I was not prepared for, never mind when your breasts becomes so engorged, heavy and beyond sore as your milk comes in. I mean, I didn’t have the easiest pregnancy as I suffered from severe symphysis pubis dysfunction resulting in me being on crutches, labour itself is no walk in the park but the pain I felt in those first few days of breastfeeding was so much worse to me as there’s no getting away from it – your baby needs to be fed. As Mush spent so much time feeding, I never felt like I had time to heal and I starting dreading the next feed. And I blamed myself for this. My latch must be wrong or my milk supply must be poor or maybe my body can’t do this. All I kept hearing in my head was the words an instructor had said at the breastfeeding class, ‘if breastfeeding hurts, you’re not doing it right.’ I would have quit there and then was it not for my 4 saviours: good support, time, lanolin cream and hot baths.


I found support to be so crucial in those first few days when you’re tired, don’t know which end of the baby is up and you can only sit down when it’s on a donut pillow. And boy was I lucky with the support group I had. My mum and mother-in-law were priceless and picked up the slack so that I could focus on nothing more than nursing Mush. Mack, was incredible and he ran around making sure that wherever I was breastfeeding I had water (you feel so thirsty when breastfeeding), food and entertainment plus he took all the nappy changes etc so that I could make the most of the time Mush was not on my boob (usually with such luxuries as a shower, nipping to the loo or putting some washing on).

My local NHS brestfeeding support network were great in that they checked in regularly and came round to check my latch and tell me what a good job I was doing (hearing this from a stranger truly bolsters you when you just want to quit)! But perhaps my biggest source of comfort were my 2 cousins who had had babies a few months before me and an old college friend that I re-connected with at an anti-natal class whose baby is 12 days older than Mush. Having people to turn to for advice or reassurance, to ask those stupid questions of and to moan to at 3 in the morning who are going or who have recently gone through the same thing is so key. It reminds you that you are not alone, that it is often the same for everyone and – this bit is important – once you hit 7 days post partum EVERYTHING will hurt much less.


This leads me nicely on to time. That 7 days is horrible but (again TMI warning) once my nipples scabbed over (I bet Giselle’s nipples didn’t scab over) and my milk settled down I truly felt better. I didn’t feel completely back to normal but I started to. So if Mack and I have another baby, I will be focussing on that 7 day mark as I can endure anything for 7 days. Given that the worst of it for me (I’ve been lucky so far and haven’t had an infection) was that short period and coincided with the usual post partum complaints, I found paracetamol to be a great relief and would take a couple when the pain was particularly bad half an hour before a feed (this is my ‘batteries not included’ bit – all medication should be taken in accordance with the instructions and doctor advice). Breastfeeding has become easier and easier in the weeks since Mush was born and it doesn’t hurt at all now. The only exceptions being when both Mush and I got a cold meaning she wanted to feed more and my supply was down a little thus increasing ‘on the boob’ time and when Mush forgets that my nipple is in fact attached to my breast and she pulls at it or generally messes around instead of peacefully eating.

Lanolin Cream

In those early days of feeding, I was overcome with a massive love for my newborn daughter and a more intense love for my husband when watching him hold our little baby girl but my third love at that time was definitely Lanolin Cream. Using this on my poor nipples helped so much and soothed so much – I nearly used a tube in my first week. It isn’t the cheapest thing to buy but worth every penny as it is safe to use when breastfeeding and doesn’t have to be washed off before feeding again. I also used it lightly on Mush if her lips became chapped from feeding. Buy it in time to put in your hospital bag and re-stock way before you actually need it (you don’t want to be without it). In fact, I had 2 tubes on the go – one for upstairs and one for downstairs/changing bag as tackling the stairs at that point can sometimes take a herculean effort.

Hot Baths

You had time to take a bath, I hear you ask? Yes because my lovely husband worked it out that way and what a difference they made. Apart from the loveliness of having that 40 minutes to yourself, I found hot baths to be wonderfully relieving for my sore boobs (more on the engorgement side of things as opposed to nipples). Steam and heat do relieve full boobs and encourage let down and when I couldn’t have a bath I would sometime lay a hot, wet flannel over my boobs for 5 minutes pre and post feed which also offered a degree of relief. For maximum healing potential, throw some Epsom Salts into your bath – good for upstairs and downstairs! I did, to air on the side of caution, rinse my nipples with clean water after such baths though to ensure that there was no salt residue on my nipples before the next feed.

On a side note and speaking of downstairs, I found baths to be a much better way of cleaning the carnage than showers plus, if you are struggling to wee after birth, my midwife gave me the oh so glamourous tip that you should wee in the bath (perhaps at the end and not the beginning) which should be a much more comfortable experience!


Dismfort aside, the other thing I wanted to address is supply. I don’t know a breasfeeding mum who doesn’t at some point (usually in those early days when the Health Visitor tells you that our baby has lost weight) question their supply. Biologically, there is only a tiny percentage of women that actually have supply problems that cannot be bolstered. For the rest there are several things you can do, as follows:


Feed on Demand:

Breasfeeding is like Pringles, the more you pop, the more you can’t stop. The more you feed the more milk your body will create. In the first few weeks I used boob as the first port of call. Eerytime Mush cried or fussed I would see if she was hungry/wanted that comfort. Some days this would result in days where Mush was on my boob the entire day but gradually as my milk supply was established, we settled into a routine. When I’m ill or she is though, we still have the odd easy day on the sofa feeding and sleeping to make sure that the milk is there.

Breastfeeding tea

You can buy actualy breasfeeding tea filled with Fennel and other milk boosting goodness and they actually work. I found that when I was struggling to express, a couple of mugs of tea through the day would mean I could express much more milk.

Attend feeding groups/meet with other mummies

As above, that support will reassure you that you are doing a good job, that there’s nothing wrong with your milk and that your baby is thriving becase of it. I had several moments of self doubt when Mush had put on barely any weight between weigh-ins but other mums reassured me that growth spurts, sickness, vacciantions are all much more likely to have affected Mush’s weight and that my milk was fine. So long as your baby is consistenly putting on some weight I was reassured that everything was ok.


I hope my account reassures and helps. Every day you breastfeed is another day in the bank and another day you can pat yourself on the back. You’re doing a great job. And the day you decide to move to formula/if you do then you can continue to pat yourself on the back because despite my pro-breastfeeding leaning  so long as your baby is happy and healthy; you’re doing a great job!


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