The future’s bright

When Harriet was just a few hours old, she failed her newborn hearing test. Shaun and I sobbed. We held each other, cried until we ached and then said, at the same time as one another “they are going to run rings around us”. We talked and laughed and cried some more about what a special bond our kids would have; two deafies in a hearing family. We knew straight away how much William would teach Harriet, how much he would look out for her. We knew how much she would adore him and hang off his every move, word and sign. We took solace in our hope that they would be the best of friends and that in this world that they are part of, and that we know nothing about, they would have each other.

And it has begun. Their bond is beautiful. Don’t get me wrong, they beat the crap out of each other. They poke and pull and push and pinch and punch. But then they laugh. They laugh so, so, so hard at one another it makes my heart ache.

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And they COMMUNICATE. With each other, with us.

Harriet has started signing. She can sign yes, no, ready, food, bottle, please and thank you. She can sign SEVEN words. Seven! Technically please and thank you are the same so six, but still, SIX!

They sign with one another, Will talks to Harriet.

At this point with Will I felt so lost, so out of my depth. I was so angry, so frustrated and so
utterly drowning in guilt. With H it is different. I feel proud, I feel happy. I worry, of course for the future. But I see Will now, talking in sentences, signing at the same time. I see a wonderful, intelligent, happy, loving little boy and the best role model a little sister could ask for. I see Harri, already asking for her bottle, or signing ready at the top of the slide in anticipation. I see a super smart little girl ready to absorb world of language in any way she can.

I see the future and it scares me but it also excites me. For the first time I truly believe they can achieve anything and I cannot wait to see what they become.

Spray tan

It’s my birthday. I am having a party. I am wearing a pretty dress. And I am getting a spray tan. This is not my first spray tan, I don’t get them every week but for the odd special occasion they help to detract from my wobbly bits and eye bags.

When Will was 8 weeks old we went to a wedding. Needless to say I had a lot of wobbly bits and some fair old eye bags. So I booked in a spray tan. At the time Shaun worked in Hammersmith so I booked it in for what would be his lunch hour so he could watch Will. Will, who, unbeknownst to us at the time had a tongue tie, was breastfed, and fed all.the.time.

We got the tube, feed all the way there, meet friends for lunch, fed all through lunch. Shaun came and off I went.

If you have never had a spray tan, here’s how it goes. You get naked, they give you some paper pants to wear, you stand in a tent. They spray you. It takes a couple of minutes and when they’re done, you stand there while it dries.

And then it happened. The woman said to me ‘it’s better if you don’t put your bra on after, the straps will rub’. And I thought to myself ‘I can’t not wear a bra, I’m breastfeeding’

And on that thought, my boobs let down, which is a funny turn off phrase because the milk went up. UP! I sprayed the poor woman with milk. It was all down my front, the tan was washed off, I had streaks all down my front, my legs. I had grabbed my boobs, obviously, to stop the onslaught of milk so my hands were now bright orange with the tan.

Oh. My. God.

So. Unbelievably. Mortifying.

The woman was crazily professional given I’m certain that can’t happen often, if ever. She wiped me down and re-sprayed me. And off I went, head hanging oh so low.

But it gets worse. Worse!

I went back to my boys and the smallest one was not happy. He wanted milk and he only wanted milk from mummy despite me having left a bottle for him. What choice did I have? He was hysterical. I had to feed him. The other thing you might not know if you haven’t had a spray tan is that they don’t dry properly for several hours afterwards. It rubs off on clothes. It rubs off on babies. And, they generally last 5-7 days. Ahem.

tango'd baby that's not chocolate oh, the shame