So I have a baby journal

 Well recently the grandparents visited and of course this is the time to hear what I was like when I was a baby. My mom had twins first so when I arrived it was all a bit too easy for her it seemed. I believe her words were she couldn't understand how people could complain when they just had one. Well I don't know any different so I hope my son is able to forgive me when I admit that I complained. I had an easy personality it seems which must have helped...so that kind of makes me feel better. LOL. My mom was reminiscing about how me and her used to go out and about all the time together. Of course them times was different too. Safety did not seem to be as big a deal now and she would drive around with me sitting in one of these plastic seats in the front sometimes without a seatbelt...shocking! I was good at sleeping as well. The only time I ever gave problems was when I had to sleep in someone else's bed....so the first time they took me to England to visit family was a bit of a problem...kept them up all night it seemed. What can I say but that to this day I still prefer my own bed. It's great to hear all these stories and I am sure as my son grows and we build memories together I am going to be learning a lot about me and how I grew up. 

What you realise is that it's true...it all happens so fast...growing up. When did my son first smile? When did he first coo at me? So a close friend gave me a baby journal to record all the special moments and I certainly am trying my best to do it.

Nesta Robert "Bob" Marley, OM (6 February 1945 – 11 May 1981)

A special Guardian playlist marking the 30th anniversary of Marley's Death

It is hard to ignore what Bob Marley did for music and did for Jamaica. Tell someone you come from Jamaica and they say two things "Bob Marley" and "You smoke weed". I always remember Bob Marley being played early in the morning hours at the end of a session (party) to slowly wind things down. When I finished high school for some reason all the 11th graders started singing "Redemption Song" to mark our freedom from the pink prison aka Immaculate Conception High School.

"My music will go on forever. Maybe it's a fool say that, but when me know facts me can say facts. Free speech carries with it some freedom to listen."

                                                                   Bob Marley

A meagre protest

Recently we heard news of how a Tesco protest became quite violent as it turned into a riot in Stoke Croft in Bristol. It is termed as a bohemian area and they saw the opening of the store as a risk to small local businesses. I am personally not a big fan of such type of rioting as usually innocent people get hurt and it usually doesn't really achieve must. Yet I find myself sympathising with the cause as a new Tesco Express opens in the Merchant City. It's not even the fact that I now have a choice of maybe 5 or 6 Tesco's I can now go to all within scarily close proximity to each other it's the fact that my local greengrocer probably closed it's doors because of it! It had something special by being able to go there and buy my fresh bread. I even blogged about it! Yes you may argue that Tesco do fresh bread but pity you because it is certainly not the same. It also had great options for fruit and vegetables. Everyone must agree that just because an apple is the perfect shape, red and shiny does not necessarily mean that it is going to taste good....and that's usually how supermarkets market their products...on the perfect look.

I would argue that now it is the case of "the chicken or the egg", that is, we as consumers now have lower expectations on what is on offer that supermarkets no longer have to work so hard on what they try to sell us. The quicker and the more convenient the better is what sells these days. Cheap usually wins out over quality as well. Can you really compete against a supermarket anymore?

Yet this is a meagre protest, as hanging my head in shame, I shop at Tesco.

Bad habits!

So my son has started to find his hands...great...except that it seems to involve him putting them in his mouth and he seems determined to be able to suck his thumb. I try now desperately to replace his thumb with a pacifier...I can eventually get rid of the pacifier in the future even if it may be with tears and screaming but I can't exactly get rid of his thumb! The reason why it bothers me so much...well ok I admit it...I was a thumb sucker until I was maybe 10 years old!!! Whatever my parents tried...I have lovely memories of them putting some horrid tasting stuff on my thumb...into my mouth it went. It's not just the fact though that it involves a thumb in your mouth, it was the dribbling saliva as well....GROSS....but I loved it! It of course meant that my front teeth not only stuck out but I had a huge gap in between my two front teeth....my party trick was sticking my tongue in between. My parents then had to cough up for braces when I was in my early teens. Love me Love my Headgear used to be my mantra. 

So I really hope my son does not take after me when it comes to bad habits....because I was a serial bed wetter and scared of the dark as well!

What's your son's ancestry?

Well the answer to that question was relatively easy for us when the midwife asked....mixed. Well we did have to think about it for a little bit I guess but that certainly was the easiest answer. He has a Jamaican mother, an Italian father, concieved in New Zealand and born in Scotland (I just added the concieved in NZ cause it sounds kind of cool).

Technically when people ask him where he comes from he should say Scotland. Ironically for me though I want him to recognise his Jamaican and Italian, roots, heritage, or whatever you want to call it. I say ironically though because I have met people who insist they are Jamaican but then you find out that they were very much born in the UK and only have Jamaican parents...the worst are those who have never even visited the island...and it drives me crazy. Then again I don't want my son necessarily to say that he is Italian or Jamaican...heaven knows what I would do if he decided to say one instead of the other and if he used it as an excuse to grow dreadlocks and smoke the herb I would be tempted to 'kill' him...but just to acknowledge that his parents having come from there influenced a bit the way he was brought up. 

Saying all that I am not quite sure how I plan to raise my son in a Jamaican or Italian manner. Let's just hope he appreciates good food, good music and at least can speak Italian.

A Mother's Dream

Shhhh, baby is sleeping so time to right a post........

So I definitely don't want to be one of those mother's who force their son's to be something that they necessarily don't want to be, you know live my dreams. Of course he has to do well in school, attend a good university, leave home and find a place for himself and get a job....other than that I have no expectations. Well I do imagine certain things for my son...I guess it's natural for every mother. From when I was pregnant my husband and I would discuss what we saw our son doing in the future. He had those typical thoughts of his son studying mathematics at Cambridge and then for some reason I saw him becoming an Olympic swimmer. Then he could wave three flags while standing on the podium, The Jamaican, The Italian and the Scottish....even though I guess technically he will probably be swimming for Great Britain. So we have started this journey to Olympidum by attending water babies classes. Thankfully he appears to be enjoying the water and from the first class they were dunking him under the water.

But its probably just a mother's dream and I can look back at this and laugh or who knows maybe we will be shouting for Francesco in 2028 and I can say I told you so!

On Being Mum

So finally I am going to try and get back to writing my blog. I can't keep using the excuse of being mum...can I? Well...maybe. I follow a blog of a young woman who was pregnant the same time as me and only after 3 weeks she was posting beautiful photos of her baby regaling her beauty and of course waxing very lyrical of all the love she felt. Damn! it took me at least 6 weeks to post pictures on facebook!!! As for waxing lyrical, well.......

I'm sorry but motherhood is hard work. Yes I love every minute of it (well most minutes anyway) and yes I love my son, but damn it's hard work! Nothing as well can prepare you for it either...unfair I say. So the first thing you notice is how quickly the day goes by, and then suddenly the second thing you notice once you think about it is that the day has gone by and you have not done much! Well except for feed my son, change my son and then fight to put him to sleep.

They kept telling me it would get easier...I never believed them...but I guess now it is. Maybe easier is not the right word so much as getting used to what motherhood is all about. Especially when you realise that most mothers experience the same things. What happens is that most people just don't talk about the hard stuff outside the private mum's circle so you never really know until you join it! So now that I have joined what have I honestly experienced....

• Frustration at the books and all their advice...chuck them and burn them I say....stop worrying about everything so much...I hate when I hear myself use the word routine now....and I have to stop comparing my son to what other babies are doing at his age (he will eventually sleep through the night...I hope!).

• Stopping following those pregnancy and baby forums on the internet...everyone has something to say and everyone thinks something different...and it can make you feel guilty about the path you have decided to travel.

• I had to stop myself rushing my son to grow up and take time to notice the little stuff. "Oh my gosh he has eyebrows now!" and "Wow his eyelashes have grown" and the best one..."When did my son become so well endowed!" Enjoy his smiles and his cute gurgles.

• I have a new title now and it's called MUMMY and yes it's hard work but damn I love it!