#Blogtober2019 – Day 21: I have to watch…

We don’t have proper TV in our house. We don’t stream TV and we don’t have any kind of box hooked up to the telly. When we moved in we didn’t have the money to get it set up and the longer we went without it, the less we felt that we needed it.

What we do have is a vast collection of films and TV series along with the requisite viewing device to watch them on.

While I was on maternity leave with the Noodle I watched ER in its entirety, beginning when he was just two weeks old and continuing until a couple of weeks before I started back at work. Laurie reached a point where he was so familiar with the music that when it came on, he’d turn to the TV and stare at it!

A little while ago, feeling nostalgic for the days of Saturday morning cartoons, the spousal unit and I decided to start a little tradition. Each Saturday morning we’d pop on a cartoon to watch.

Initially this was the classic Stoppit and Tidyup though as that’s only thirteen episodes and each one runs at about five or six minutes, we powered through that. We followed it up with Paddington and paired the latter up with Batman.

Laurence does this amazing little dance to the opening theme music of these TV shows. Almost without fail, the music starts and he bobs up and down, usually with the massive grin on his face when he catches you watching him.

The downside to watching these programmes is that he insists on us watching them on a Saturday morning. Or any morning that he thinks might be a Saturday. They’re kept behind the TV out of reach, but he knows where they are and will grope for them and point and complain when we don’t get them out. He’s very persistent.

You also have to be careful what you say around him now. If you utter a word that sounds little too close to Batman or The Clangers, he’ll be there, trying to get the DVD case out and put the TV on.

We honestly don’t watch that much TV around him, but there are days when I think he’s utterly obsessed with it.

Take yesterday, for example. We’d picked up some Mr Men DVDs in town at the weekend, and they’d been placed on the bookcase at Laurie-height. He spotted them and before I knew what he was doing, he was getting the extension out to plug the TV (we don’t have it plugged in unless we’re about to watch it).

In the end, I let him pop a disc in and we enjoyed a peaceful few minutes as he sat on the rug, wearing nothing but a cloth nappy and his wellies, deeply engrossed in the adventures of Mr Tickle.

Perhaps there’s things I’d rather be watching than a bunch of brightly coloured characters getting up to antics on my screen. But his reactions to them are so cute, that I’m willing to forego the odd medical drama or two when it’s time for some TV time. It’s all time I’m getting to spend with my boy and I wouldn’t trade it for the world (and as an added bonus, sometimes it distracts him long enough to let me get some OU done)!

This post is part of a series for Blogtober 2019. See all my prompts below:

What are some of the programmes you have to watch? Are any of them chosen for you by someone else?

#Blogtober2019 – Day 20: Family is…

It’s hard to explain the feeling of missing a family member who’s never been there to someone who has never experienced it.

Most people know what it’s like to miss a loved one who is no longer with us; whether they’ve just gone away for a while, or they are a permanent loss. It’s that feeling of finding something you’re dying to tell them, only to be hit with the realisation that they are no longer around to tell. And in that moment you would give anything to get them back to share your news with them.

The longing for a child who is yet to exist is like that, but different.

It’s the feeling waking up to empty arms after the most vivid dream where you held your baby. You’re so acutely conscious of the weight that was in your arms just moments before that for a moment you panic when they’re not there. Then the sadness sets in as you remember that they were never there.

It’s the sense of longing as your colleagues share what their kids got up to at the weekend. You so desperately want to join in on the conversation, but you have nothing to contribute and as you listen to what they say, your mind drifts to imagining what your weekend would’ve looked like with a child in your home.

It’s the pain of waking up to cramps on a lazy Sunday morning and knowing that it’s not even worth unboxing the pregnancy test in the cupboard because you’ve already got the answer to the test. You know that instead of getting to do the cute pregnancy reveal to your partner that you’ve always planned, you’ll be eating your body weight in chocolate and hugging a hot water bottle to survive work the following day.

It’s avoiding every Baby Event in the supermarkets and Back to School offer in September. It’s the sadness of another Christmas without an extra family member to buy presents for and one less person to help put up the tree. It’s blowing out the candles on a birthday cake and making the same wish for the fourth year in a row, all the while hearing your biological clock ticking in every cell in your body.

Waiting for your child to arrive and knowing that it’s just Not. That. Simple. takes over your whole life. It becomes a part of who you are, even if it’s a part of you that is carefully concealed from the rest of the world. Every day there is some new reminder of this thing that other people have and that you do not; sometimes they even take you by surprise and you find yourself feeling completely overwhelmed in the strangest of places, like the library, or watching a band play.

But a family is something you can build as well.

Your family is all the people who support your through those darkest days. The friends who buy you cake when your IVF round fails. The internet strangers who read your blog and send you books that speak to your soul. The actual family members who can’t be there in person, but always let you know you’re in their thoughts.

Sometimes, when you’re trying so hard to make a family, you can overlook the family who is all around you at that very moment.

I don’t really feel like my family is complete yet. I still have that sense that there’s someone missing from our lives, but I’m optimistic that we’ll find them some day. And I’m so grateful to everyone who supported and helped us along the way to bring Laurie into the world, I hope they’ll be there when we need them in the future and that we can repay the favour when they need us.

This post is the twentieth in a series for Blogtober 2019. You can see my prompts below:

Have you experienced that longing for another member of your family? When you had children, did have a moment when you knew your family was complete?

#Blogtober2019 – Day 19: The Best Day

The truth is, we have so many wonderful days together, both days out and days in, that it’s hard to say which is exactly the very best day of them all.

Perhaps our very best day would look something like this:

We’d wake up feeling refreshed and ready for the day. There would be no disruption on the boats and we’d sit together excitedly planning our trip ahead. Laurie would probably have us playing musical chairs and would get to charm some ladies seated near us.

Our trip out would be to somewhere not too far away, but perhaps just enough of a distance to give Laurie a nap on the way. That way he’d be all full of energy and ready to go when we arrived.

Wherever we are going on our imaginary best day, we’d have a snack when we arrived; either something we’d brought ourselves, or something they could provide. This would allow us all to feel refuelled and we’d then head out to see the place we’d be spending the day.

The place we would go to would have lots of things for Laurie to see and get involved with, like at the Science Centre. We would have things to look at and do as well, but it would be at a happy medium level where Laurie could get some benefit from the day as well. If there are staff standing by, they would be able to engage Laurie and draw him in to take part in activities or have a go at taking part. He loves being able to touch things or move things, especially if there are older children who are getting to be involved; he doesn’t seem to realise how much younger he is!

Laurie is massively into animals right now, so there would almost definitely be animals at this place we are visiting. Once again, he’d want to be able to get up close to them, talk to them and maybe even stroke one or two. If those animals were dogs, Laurence would be in his element. If there was an opportunity to give a rat a cuddle, I’d be in my element too.

Come lunch time and we would find a nice place to eat at our attraction. The food would be tasty and filling with plenty of choice on the menu (particularly the one aimed at smaller visitors). There would be lots of different seating options as well, perhaps highchairs for the teeny tinies and booster seats for the older ones who are getting far too long in the leg to fit many highchairs you get in restaurants. If there was an all-you-can-eat buffet option, we’d definitely go all in for that.

We would maybe spent the afternoon indulging in one of Laurie’s interests; perhaps looking at different vehicles, meeting some dogs, or getting to look at a massive pile of books. I’d definitely be in favour of those last two. It would’ve been a busy day by this point so a refuelling stop for some cake or biscuits wouldn’t go amiss either.

By this point we would need to be thinking about heading back, but perhaps we’d get to have a spot of charity shopping, or mooching round a secondhand bookshop on the way back. If we could all come away with a little treat, it would round the day off nicely.

Getting back to the ferry just as a boat is pulling in, rather than away, would allow us to finish the day without a long wait for the boat, and a smooth crossing would be an added bonus.

And then we’d be back home in time to pick up Tara from the kennels and grab a bite to eat, before snuggling up in bed with a movie (that we’d probably all fall asleep in front of).

The funny thing is, this day describes many of our trips off the island. It could be our recent trip to Funworld or to Ayr earlier in the year. It’s virtually a complete description of our trip to Heads of Ayr Farm Park last month (a trip that I’m yet to blog about). We’ve fallen into a good routine for our days out and it turns out that it’s making for some pretty good days out; no wonder it’s so hard to pick which of them is the best one!

This blog post is part of a series for Blogtober 2019. You can see my full list of prompts below:

What would your best day out look like? Have you been lucky enough to experience it or is it still a pipe dream?

#Blogtober2019 – Day 18: Grand Tour

About a month ago, Laurie started doing this thing where he would come and take our hands to lead us somewhere when there was something he wanted to show us or a place we needed to be.

At any given moment I could be led to the kitchen door with an indication he wants something to eat, or the stairgate at the bottom of the stairs (which means he wants to play in the bathroom or his room), or through to Tara’s room so he can give her a cuddle. I love that he’s figured out that he doesn’t yet have the words to make himself understood, so he can save time by just taking us to the place we need to be and then doing lots of pointing to make it all clear.

And the feel of his little hand in mine is just lovely.

Maybe moreso because when we’re out we have moments of determined independence when he doesn’t want to hold our hands at all. These frequently end in ‘sit down protests’ which are as amusing as they are frustrating.

His hand always seems to fit so nearly in mine. He’s getting on for four times the size he was when he was born, and even though he keeps on growing, it still keeps fitting just the same. Or maybe not quite the same but even though it’s different, it’s unchanged too.

Sometimes, when I get home from work and I’m chilling on the sofa, he comes and takes my hand. He’ll heave and haul until I’m on my feet, then lead me off on a tour of the living room.

We often stop to look at a toy, or pick up the tub of building blocks to carry around with us, or sit down on the rug until we have enough energy to go onwards in our trek.

And just like that, he’ll give me the full tour of the living room.

I have to admit, there’s not a whole lot to see. It certainly doesn’t change much from one day to the next. But even though I’m often tired when he’s leading me round the living room and pointing out landmarks, such as a cushion he’s placed on the floor, the socket for the TV, and a piece of fluff off his father’s dressing gown, it’s always interesting to see what he’ll pick out this time.

He helps me to see familiar places through new eyes.

Even when that familiar place is my own living room!

This post is one of a series for the 2019 Blogtober challenge. You can see my prompts below:

Have you taken a tour somewhere familiar? Did it change how you viewed the place?

#Blogtober2019 – Day 17: That One App

Like a fair chunk of the population, I rarely tend to be without my phone. It’s my means of staying in contact with friends and family, I use it to share updates on Laurie, search for information, and take photos too.

And I’m also permanently on a mission to find useful apps for my phone.

It probably goes without saying that Facebook is probably one of the apps that sees the most use on my phone. I help run a support group for UK parents of IVF babies and I’ve become incredibly grateful for my friends who live in my phone. It’s a large enough group now that there will almost always be someone who can answer a question, or who is up at 3am to commiserate over your poor sleep, or to point you in the direction of the bargain you’re looking for.

I know that social media gets a bad rap at times, but it’s invaluable for finding people in the same boat as yourself when you’re going through pretty much any kind of medical treatment. And there’s something very reassuring about knowing you have a safe space to vent and share about the less than pleasant sides to parenting, without worrying about judgement.

People complain about the way that people on social media present a curated view of their lives. I’m sure there are people who look at my posts and feel bad that they don’t do some of the things I do with Laurie with their own kids; but I’m looking at their posts and feeling guilty about him missing out on the things their kids do. It’s human nature to compare ourselves to others and there’s been times I’ve stepped back from being online as much because my family is awesome in its own way; sometimes you need to stop comparing to appreciate that.

But I’m pretty certain the social media apps will continue to get air time on my phone. Mainly because parenting can be a lonely business at times and you’ll naturally doubt yourself and whether or not you’re doing things right. I’ll be forever grateful that I was born at a time where if I need a bit of support or reassurance, I can tap into one of my groups or send a message to a friend, and the response can be instantaneous.

This post is part of a series I’m writing as I take part in Blogtober 2019. You can see my full list of prompts below:

Is there one app you can’t live without? Do you feel like social media has a big influence on your life?

#Blogtober2019 – Day 16: Five Facts

Today I’m going to share some facts about IVF, purely because it’s one of those things that you don’t realise how little you know about it, until you’re having to learn the ropes while you experience it.

1. Approximately 1 in 8 couples have trouble getting pregnant
I’ve even read reports which suggest the figure might be closer to 1 in 7.

It’s not widely spoken about, so many couples often struggle in silence, fielding the questions and comments about when they’re going to start a family without people realising why there haven’t yet been any announcements.

Hopefully though, this means that it’s gradually becoming something that’s more widely spoken about, as the effect of infertility on mental health is now being recognised.

2. Although the treatment is called IVF, for many people the actual process used for fertilisation is ICSI
That stands for Intracytoplasmic Sperm Injection.

When you see a news article with the stock photo of the egg with a needle containing a sperm being injected into it, that’s ICSI. Traditional IVF has an egg placed in a petri dish with a host of sperm and they’re left to get on and do their thing. ICSI is used for a variety of reasons; if the sperm sample has a low number of sperm, if they don’t move correctly, or if there are a high number of abnormal sperm, then an individual one is selected and injected directly into the egg.

The clinic where Laurie was conceived does this as standard now because they’ve found it has better results than IVF alone. We can attest to this (though it’s not the same for everyone); before the fresh round which gave us Laurie we did a round where half the eggs were injected and half were put in dishes to do their thing, none of the IVF eggs fertilised whereas in both rounds, almost all the ICSI ones did.

3. To be injected into an egg, a sperm has to be paralysed!
Obviously it must be hard to catch something so small, so the embryologist will need to render the sperm immobile.

They generally do this by bopping their tails with the needle used to collect and inject them! It stops them moving, allows them to be collected with the needle and examined to check for serious abnormalities before injecting them into the egg.

In the run up to use in an IVF or ICSI treatment, the sperm also gets a special wash as well to remove any unhealthy sperm as well as bacteria or unwanted additions from the sample.

4. A baby was born from an embryo frozen for a quarter of a century!
It’s thought to be the longest that an embryo has been frozen for and resulted in a live birth.

The embryo was frozen for 24 years and resulted in a healthy baby girl, born to a 25 year old mother. Her parents adopted the embryo (some couples decide to donate their ‘leftover’ embryos to others undergoing treatment to give them the chance to become parents).

In the last twenty five years, the freezing and thawing process has also been perfected so more embryos have a greater chance of surviving the thaw. The success rates for frozen embryo transfers are also improving. One report mentioned that women over 37 who use embryos frozen before they were 35 have a greater chance of becoming pregnant than using fresh embryos created after the age of 37.

Laurie was born from an embryo frozen for 96 days.

5. On the day of an embryo transfer you are classed as 2 weeks and 5 days pregnant (if your embryo is a Day 5)
If it’s a Day 2 embryo then you’re 2 weeks and 2 days; if it’s a Day 3 embryo then you’re 2 weeks and 3 days pregnant.

This is because pregnancies are dated from the last menstrual period and assumes everyone has a 28 day cycle; even though in an IVF round it may not be two weeks since your period, it’s assumed ovulation (and fertilisation) happens on the 14th day of a woman’s cycle. Embryos are transferred on either Day 2, Day 3 or Day 5 of development (though some are transferred on Day 6 and there have even been Day 7 embryo transfers).

At this point you’re classed as PUPO, a charming acronym standing for Pregnant Until Proven Otherwise. On the one hand you’re supposed to pretty much carry on as normal, but on the other, you’re to assume you’re pregnant unless you receive a result that tells you you’re not. It’s another one of those IVF limbo stages.

Legally, from a UK workplace perspective, from the day of transfer a woman enters a ‘protected period’ where she is classed as pregnant for the two weeks until test day, and a further two weeks after that if it’s a negative. If it’s positive, you’re obviously pregnant and entitled to all the same rights as any other pregnant woman for the duration of your pregnancy.

As you can see, it’s all a bit of a minefield!

This post is part of a series for the Blogtober 2019 challenge. You can see my prompts below:

Were any of these facts news to you? Did anything surprise you?

#Blogtober2019 – Day 15: Things we have lost

Today is the final day of Pregnancy and Baby Loss Week. It culminates in the Wave of Light. At 7pm local time, people all around the world light a candle to remember those souls who we never got to meet or hold; the ones we carry in our hearts.

The ones we have lost.

Before Laurence there was a frozen embryo transfer that resulted in twins. We nicknamed them Olaf and Elsa, because they were Frozen. They existed for such a painfully short period of time, we barely knew they were there before we were losing them.

And with them we lost a whole way of life. Birthdays we would never celebrate, friends they would never meet, toys they would never play with.

Two years later we transferred Bo and Luke. Bo because Laurie but Luke remains just Luke. I’ll never know if his little heart ever beat, I like to think it did, even if it was only for a short while. By the time we had a scan little Luke had stopped developing, while his brother grew big and strong.

But I’ll always wonder what could have been.

Perhaps I’d have a pair of three year olds now. Or I’d have two tearaway toddlers to wrangle into bed at night rather than one.

I want Laurie to know about his siblings who aren’t here. Although they were lost, we haven’t lost them.

Olaf and Elsa were the ones who gave me the opportunity to be a mum, who helped us work out why our IVF cycles were failing. If it wasn’t for them, Laurie wouldn’t be here.

And little Luke was Laurie’s special companion, a little guardian angel in the womb.

So while we never held them in our arms, we hold them in our hearts every day.

I’ll end this post with a little letter I wrote to Laurie four months before he was conceived, not knowing if I’d ever be lucky enough to have a firstborn.

A letter to my firstborn

To my Darling Someday Firstborn,

Although you will always be my Firstborn, you will never be my First.

You might be the first baby whose heartbeat I will hear throbbing away below my own. The first baby I will ever feel kicking inside me. The first baby I will birth and hold and marvel at the fact that your father and I (and a team of highly skilled professionals) created your wonderful, amazing, tiny body.

But you are not my First.

Yours was not the first pregnancy test I ever took (not by a long way, I’m afraid). Yours wasn’t even the first one to give me a positive result.

And that’s why you’re not my First.

You see, not all pregnancies have a happy ending, and unfortunately my First, like so many people around the world, did not.

My Firstborn, growing a baby is a little like burning a candle. Candles come in all shapes and sizes; you watch them, counting down the time until it’s going to be over and you can move on to the next stage. But that little flame on the candle is as delicate and fragile as a tiny new life.

Sometimes candles don’t stay alight for long.

We’re plunged into darkness.

And that’s why we have to remember what that light was like when it was still here.

So that is why, my precious Someday Child, on October the 15th thousands of people around the world light a candle at 7pm. It creates a wave of light around the world as people light candles and remember.

And that is why I light a candle at 7pm on October the 15th.

And I remember.

One day, my Someday Child, we will light that candle and I will tell you about the ones who came before you.

And we will remember together.

But until that day comes and you’re here with me, sharing all those firsts right alongside of me, I’ll wait and I’ll remember and I’ll share my story of my First with those who’ll listen.

And hopefully those who are lighting a candle on October the 15th and remembering too will know they’re not alone.

All my love,

From your Someday Mother.

This post is my 15th in a series of Blogtober 2019 posts.

Have you taken part in this year’s Wave of Light? Why not share who you’re remembering?

#Blogtober2019 – Day 14: Earworms

Have you ever been stalked by a song?

I know, that sounds crazy, but bear with me here.

Back in 2017 we were in limbo. It was around March or early April and we were several weeks out from our fresh round of IVF which had ended in egg collection on the 13th of February. As it was a freeze all cycle, we had to wait until we were able to defrost and transfer our embryos.

It is a bit of a funny place to be. All of your momentum has been building up to collection and transfer, and when transfer isn’t able to go ahead, it kind of takes all the wind out of your sails. You can’t really relax because you’re thinking ahead to when treatment will start again but at the same time, you can’t really focus fully on it, because it’s yet to start.

Like I said, we were in limbo. And we were looking for some sign that this was going to be our time.

While we were in limbo, we were driving to work, listening to the radio, and we rounded a corner to find a beautiful bright rainbow. At the exact second that I pointed it out to the spousal unit, Starship’s Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now began to play on the radio.

That, I thought, is a sign.

Logically, I’m sure that because I’d heard the song and decided it was a sign, I was 100% more aware of it and therefore picked up on it in places I wouldn’t normally have noticed it. But it did seem like the song followed us around.

On the way to FET appointments, I’d plug into my phone to listen to some music, and it would be the first track to come on. I put it on my Thinking Positive playlist on Spotify while I showered and it would crop up in the rotation. We’d listen to the radio first thing in the morning while I took my meds, and there it was again.

It was stalking us.

And it was nice. Reassuring. Like something was reaching out across the ether, giving our shoulders a little squeeze, and telling us it was all going to be okay. That nothing was going to stop us this time.

The day of our transfer was nerve-wracking, as all embryo transfers are.

First you have to wait for the call to find out if your embryos have survived the thaw. They’re such delicate little creatures (and even though the procedure for freezing and thawing has improved over the past 25 years, there’s always still that risk). I was terrified that we were going to blow through all nine embryos and have nothing to show for it.

Then you have to drink enough fluid to have a ‘comfortably full’ bladder. That’s an oxymoron if ever I’ve heard one. And then you have the wait to get called through, which feels longer than your bladder can possibly last.

You’ve got the sexy hospital gown and paper booties to don, along with your hair net. All the consent forms to sign. And then the procedure which is likened to a smear test, and I guess it would be, if the smear test involved feeding a catheter into your uterus with your prospective offspring onboard, whilst someone presses a scan probe into your uncomfortably full bladder, and you try not to pee on the doctor doing the procedure.

It’s such a magical moment.

In the hospital waiting room, I knew we had all this to come. We sat there, not talking, with several other couples, who were also not talking (some day I’ll blog about all the not talking that goes on in IVF waiting rooms).

There was a TV on the wall with some radio station playing but it was mostly white noise in the background. Until a familiar opening began to play.

And we can build this thing together
Stand this stormy weather
Nothing’s gonna stop us now…

And with that we were called through.

And we got to see Laurie for the very first time.

This post is part of a series for the Blogtober 2019 blogging challenge. You can see my full list of prompts below:

Are there songs that seem to crop up at significant moments in your life? Any songs that carry a particularly special meaning for you?

#Blogtober2019 – Day 13: All dressed up

Anyone who has met me is probably aware that fashion is not one of my strong points.

Given half the chance, I live in jeans and a top. If it’s cold, I’ll throw a hoodie over the top; if it’s warm, the top will be short-sleeved. Actually, given half the chance, I’ll be wearing my jammies, but if I have to put actual clothes on, then they’ll be my default ‘uniform’.

And yet, there’s something about having a small person of my very own to dress up, that make me more than just interested in clothes for practical purposes. Suddenly I find myself considering how well things go together.

I’ve become the mother who matches my son’s socks to his top.

I don’t even know how it happened.

Well, maybe I do.

Before Laurie was born, we ordered some bundles of clothes off of eBay. We were also lucky enough to be given a couple of bags of hand-me-downs from friends. There were some outfit sets amongst these clothes, but there were lots of individual items which I had to piece together into outfits for him.

I remember being immensely proud of the day when amongst his clothes I discovered a dark blue long-sleeved top with a dog pattern on it. He’d also got a pair of dungarees with a dog on them. And although the two different dogs didn’t match, they were similar enough that an outfit was born.

He must’ve worn that outfit at least once a week until the dungarees wouldn’t stay done up and the top’s sleeves were halfway up his arms! I was so proud of it.

The photo doesn’t really do it justice. The little square on the dungarees has a dog on it and you can just about make out the not-quite-the-same-but-quite-similar dogs on the top. I even matched the dribble bib!

There’s something kind of fun in putting together little combinations of top, bottoms, jumper and anything else, and figuring out a way to tie them all together. Generally I either pick out one colour and try to find another item of clothing with the same/complementary colour, or I find a motif which is repeated in another item of clothing.

I’m sure that I do miss the mark occasionally, but as far as children go, Laurie’s an easy little boy to dress. I can pretty much guarantee that trousers and a nice jumper will make him look fairly smart (so long as we keep him away from anything sticky).

And I do fall back on the shop bought outfits when I’m feeling lazy. One that crops up in a few photos at the moment is his ‘moosebum’ outfit. This was in a bundle that one of his little friends had outgrown and passed on to us. I just love the moose on the bum! The fact that the Noodle’s Naini knitted him a hoodie that matches it perfectly is just an added bonus.

Laurie’s already getting more insistent about picking his own clothes, so I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before I have to hand over the reins to him for selecting his outfits. He’s already got pretty good taste when it comes to clothes and footwear though, so he’ll probably do a way better job than me at it!

This blog post is part of a series for the Blogtober 2019 challenge. You can see my prompt list below:

Are you able to coordinate the perfect outfit? Or do just just grab whatever’s clean and hope for the best?

#Blogtober2019 – Day 12: Today I made…

Today I made my son giggle when I got into the cot like he told me to (he then lay on his father’s side of the bed, so I think he was playing at being Daddy while I got to be Laurie).

Today I made my son so happy when I put on his welly boots and took him into the garden for a stomp in the wood chippings.

Today I made my son run up and down the living room which was all fun and games until he tripped over the rug and bumped his nose on the floor.

Today I made my son cry playing the aforementioned game.

Today I made my son laugh hysterically by pulling my arm up inside my dressing gown and then grabbing his hand when he reached into my empty sleeve.

Today I made my son come in from stomping around the garden (with his wellies on the wrong feet because he did it himself) with the promise of some Minion crispies.

Today I made my son upset when I wouldn’t let him help load the washing machine (that I’d already loaded with laundry).

Today I made my son excited when I invited him to press the start button on the washing machine because he loves to do laundry.

Today I made one arm, two eye patches and two ears for the little knitted panda that I’m making Laurie after he fell in love with one from the same pattern in a charity shop a few weeks ago and I still feel guilty for not getting it for him.

Today I made a bat with my son:

Excuse the potato quality photo. The lighting wasn’t great in the room and I had a toddler trying to share the camera with me.

Laurie and his dad painted the toilet roll tube earlier in the week. After a (very) long nap this afternoon, I cut out the wings, ears and a couple of different mouth shapes then gave Laurie a selection of googly eyes to choose from. He did the pasting and I helped him stick them on (apart from the ears which I did as he was losing interest by that point).

He now lives on top of the bookcase and is officially the first of our handmade Halloween decorations this year.

This blog post is part of a series in the Blogtober 2019 blogging challenge. You can see my full list of prompts below:

What have you been making recently? Are you crafty at all?