Battle of the bottle.....
The best advice anyone has given me so far is that this parenting malarky is a marathon, not a sprint. So here we are simply plodding along. Day by day. Some days are just hideous where I find myself spelling the words 'panic' in the magnet alphabet letters on the fridge. Other days are pure bliss and I feel like I can take on the world. The biggest step we have taken this week is to swap his baby bottle of milk for a toddler sports bottle. The tears were initially ear shattering but I was determined to stick it out. I know it's for the better and tonight my friends, he is happily sipping on his 'big boy' bottle. Result. Miss Delia has put me in touch with another of her recruits and we agree to meet up. Mrs Scooby Doo is just lovely. It's amazing how much we have in common and I am instantly relaxed in her company. Baby Scooby Doo is younger than LBM and too cute for words and I feel I have made a very special friend here.
We have a big meeting this week to discuss Jelly-tot and Miss Delia and Miss Scarlett arrive at what can only be described as LBM's bewitching hour. We watch a dvd of Jelly-tot but to be honest, I hardly take any in at all as all I can see out of the corner of my eye is LBM violently shaking his head in refusal. And of course, Miss Delia clocks this. Gah! I'm hoping its more of a bored racehorse stuck in a stable sort of head shake rather than a "don't you dare bring another little one into this house head shake."
They stay for well over 2 hours and it doesn't end well. I have to abandon the meeting halfway through and feed LBM and continue with his evening routine while LRUN carries on without me. In fact Miss Delia comes up to say goodbye while LBM is in the bath. Oh my hat, she has seen his winkie. I'm not sure how I feel about that. I watch the dvd later when LBM is asleep and oh my...she is cute. Big deep blue eyes and she has LBM's cheeks. Too precious. We must be mad but it somehow feels right. But now, the decision is in their hands, not ours. Once again, we are party to their judgements and opinions.
On the cake front things are looking pretty dire. My emporium of glass cake stands stand empty, longing to be bursting with the luscious delights of the past. I'm hoping the passion will return. I stand in the baking aisle with a whining toddler in the trolley and can't seem to find the inspiration. However, there is that awkward moment when your toddler squeals with delight when you put the gin in the shopping trolley. And everyone turns to look. Yes, that!
- mummy in the baking
- This blog is about me and my voyage to becoming a mummy. Ironically called “mummy in the baking” as together with my passion and obsession for all things cake related, I will never be able to have my own "bun in the oven." Years of fertility treatment have taken their toll and I now find myself on a new..eek, i hate this word...journey! The crazy train to adoption. I hope you will join me while I bake my way to becoming a mummy. I want this blog to be a source of information as well as a comforter. I hope it will inspire and help anyone who is considering adoption or who has in fact already bought their ticket for this..here I go again...journey. Cake makes me happy and I hope you will enjoy sharing my love of it. I want it to help lift your spirits and hearts through what can only be described as 'the trials and tribulations of the adoption process.' Along with my desire to be a family, I love my dogs, have an unhealthy love of sausages and chenin blanc, adore my land rover uber-nerd of a husband and continiously dream of balmy summer evenings. Baking in progress…..