Skip to main content

Moving on.

The time thief aka Limpet
I have to admit my poor little blog has been neglected of late. There are a few reasons why so, I thought I would update everyone with what's going on with the Cockerill Clan.

Two kids is hard. So hard. Harder than I ever thought it would be. There are days like today where I have lost it numerous times before Lunch and sent a text to Greg saying I can't cope.

I believe that I tricked myself into thinking that I was moving beyond PND and coping. Elijah was being better behaved since we reduced his sugar intake, meals were getting made before Greg was home, I was writing news articles/ other blogs most days and Harlow seemed content.

Then all hell broke loose. Harlow had his third set of jabs and lost his shit. It was over a week ago now and he still isn't right. It was as if suddenly at 4 months all those good hormones have pissed off you are left dazed, slighly aggressive and you have a screaming baby on your hands who is pulling out your thinning hair. All the go to tricks (Dentinox/swaddling/ baby gin -Gripe water) become as useful as a turd on the floor  (which has happened quite recently courtesy of Elijah).

You are back to the beginning again, suddenly forgetting how to be a parent and indeed how to be a human. You have gone deaf from the screaming. The only way I can do anything at the moment, mainly just going to the toilet is to bribe Elijah into sitting with Harlow as the minute he knows I am not there he kicks off. I mean it sounds as though somone is torturing him. My ears are permanently ringing.

Whether it is because we are at the weird transition stage from not quite a newborn anymore but not being quite able to do what he wants, who knows. We've slowly started weaning, he has started rolling and he is showing signs of crawling and he is frustrated. He wants to do it all. I know deep down its a phase it will pass but being so deep on in the trenches with just back up from a three year old isn't to much fun.

Most days I feel like I am drowing unable to verbalise to Greg how I really feel at the same time of not wanting him to know what a failure I feel. The guilt I feel that he has to put up with this is overwhelming. I try to keep busy and writing for numerous sites and becoming an online journalist has helped keep my mind some what busy but it isn't enough. PND has robbed me of alot. Being the mother, partner, friend and person who I want to be. I fake it to make it but deep down I am at war with myself.

Its been nearly 5 months since I gave birth and I feel annoyed with myself that this is still an issue. That I am still letting the bad days swallow me whole rather than brush them off. That I let toxic people still affect me even though we have been striving to make positive changes. I guess in a way I am frustrated being the friend with PND the partner with PND the mother with PND. I desperately want to be me again but its like I am being held back every time I think I am making progress.

Greg started a new job which sees him home most nights to help put the boys to bed something we never had with Elijah. We have also made the decision to pack up our little house and move in with my Nan to save for a mortgage, pass our driving tests and not have to struggle for money.

It seems abit counter productive going to live back home but it's the only way we will ever be able to save. I brought Elijah home to this house twice. Once after his birth and once after his op. Harlow was born here. My poor MewMew is buried in the garden. This was mine and Greg's first home alone and it will always hold a place in my heart. On the other hand I will have an onsite babysitting assistant! I think I need the support too. The boys will get to make some amazing memories with her while they are young.

So, two kids, fighting a war in my own head and packing up a house sees me pretty busy and when I am not watching PJ Masks or shushing a baby.

I am writing every night hence why my poor social media presence (other than promotion of posts) has depleated and I have not written on here much but at least now you are caught up.

So for now I need to concentrate on moving on, physically and mentally.


Popular posts from this blog

Dear Elijah, on your fourth heart day

Elijah the heart hero never letting anything stop him. Today  is your 4th heart day. It's 4 years since we took you down to Great Ormond Street for open heart surgery. It seems to have crept up on us again. Another whole year has passed but it hasn't changed how I feel about that day. Some have said that oh, by now surely you should have gotten over it after all it's been 4 years. The answer is I don't think I ever will. I have been thinking a lot about that day, where I signed the consent forms for them to take you and operate on you. To either save or take your life. That day was the worst of my life, the unknown certainty of whether you would come back up again. I held you as they put you to sleep. They gave me your dummy as they took you from me and laid you on the operating table as if you weighed nothing. I couldn't even kiss you goodbye in case it was the last time. That's why I won't ever get over it and those who have been in the

The time Fajita night resulted in having a baby in a bath.

The newest Cockerill Do you all remember my ever so optimistic natural birth plan? You can read it here. However, spoiler alert, it didn’t happen. What did happen was something no one was expecting. Wednesday the 5 th July… a mundane sort of day spent cleaning the house and doing the weekly shop. With Greg going back to work the next day I was determined to make sure everything was ready for when this baby arrived! I was three days off my due date and still hadn’t had one single sign this baby was imminently coming. I had been receiving messages from quite a few people asking if baby was here yet. I was getting fed up as everything I had tried to induce labour failed miserably and every morning for the last two weeks I woke up disappointed I wasn’t in labour! I gave up, walking didn’t help, pineapple made me sick and I was beginning to tire of the raspberry leaf tea. This baby was staying put. In the evening I put Elijah bed, and we began to settle down for the eveni

The one with Elijah's heart surgery.

We were back. April 22-28 2015, a year ago this weekend. In just two short weeks since we last went down to London. We had to go down the day before and check in and have another blood test. As all of the forms had been signed last time, we were out again within an hour or so. Back to the same family accommodation, in a different room and with a lot less luggage. Something felt different this time, although I didn't want to believe it was going ahead in the event it was cancelled again, deep down I knew it would be. The morning of the surgery I knew how I would feel as we had been through this all before. I didn't want to go out for a meal so we ate in the hotel room watching ch5 rubbish after Elijah went down in the travel cot. Its odd that through the whole pre admission, cancelled op and the actual operation I can remember what shit we watched on TV and what we ate for tea that night. One of those weird things that just sticks in your head. Sort of like when you rememb