What are muslin cloths for?

Oh I love love love this question.  A friend in work who is having Baby No. 1 asked this question in the break room.  Incidentally, I am not allowed to linger in the Break Room, just pop in long enough to make a cuppa.  According to my Boss, as, ahem, ‘Management’, we have to give the Staff their own space.  What is this all about?! It just means they have somewhere specified to slag us off.  And how will I keep updated on the gossip?  Its a good job I have a few insiders….

Anyway… Muslin cloths, I could write for hours about them.. The best invention.  My no. 1 essential when it comes to baby care.  I could not , and still can not cope without them.  below is my Top 20 uses for a muslin cloth.  Forward this to all those friends and famiy who are non-believers in this most sacred piece of cotton.

Top 20 Uses for A Muslin Cloth

  1. A burping cloth.  Perfect for catching all the excess milk/sick/spit.  Pop it on your shoulder.
  2. A breast pad.  Feeding the baby?  Milk coming out of orifices you didn’t even know you had?  Just use the cloth to line your bra or feeding top while Baby is latched on.  It soaks up pretty much everything.
  3. Breast feeding scarf.  Its thin, its breathable, drape it over Baby to save your dignity, drape it over yourself, drape it over the person next to you if they can’t stop staring.
  4. Liner for pram/car seat.  I often found that the car seat material in particular was scratchy.  Line it with a lovely, soft, always-better-tumbled muslin.
  5. A comforter.  Kids love them.  They cuddle them, sleep with them, suck them.  Hey, if it works, don’t knock it.
  6. Sun hat.  Forgotten baby’s hat?  Tie knots in the four corners or make it into a bandanna.
  7. Sun visor.  I have jammed it into the top of a car window, most of them are a good size and will cover the whole window.  They are particularly good for use on a pram/buggy.  I hate walking past a pram when it has a beautiful but completely impractical sun umbrella up.  They never work.  Use hairclips or pegs to tie it to the pram hood.  They work perfectly.
  8. Snot wiper.  Blow on it, pick with it , mop up with it.
  9. Spare clothes.  i have created a top, a nappy , a sarong and makeshift knickers with  a muslin cloth.
  10. Bandage. Always handy.
  11. Dry baby wipe.  There are times when a baby wipe just wont do.  They are too wet and moist.  The beach is a perfect example. Little one fallen over and has sand all over their face/ice cream/sandwich?  Use the muslin like a tea towel, wipe the sand off, works so much better with something dry.  Toilet accident?  Once you have cleaned with baby wipes, sometimes you need to dry the skin afterwards – muslin = perfect.
  12. Bib.  You can now buy triangle shaped bibs, but a muslin cloth tied in a triangle around little ones neck is wonderful.  Particularly if you are in a restaurant/friends impeccable kitchen/ice cream parlour.  They are soft on little ones necks. They are big.  But best of all they are sooo absorbent.
  13. A makeshift bag.  Out and about?  Little one collected whole host of useless (but to them very precious..) junk?  Leaves/shells/twigs/dandelions?  Tie corners in it a la Dick Whittington and you are quids in.
  14.   Blanket.  Particularly useful for swaddling and in summer when baby just needs a little something to keep the wind off.
  15. Spillages.  Porridge, milk, juice, the spinach and broccoli baby swill you made, soup, your coffee when they throw it all over you/the sofa/the table.  A muslin can handle the lot.
  16. Ice pack.  Just the write thinness to wrap around frozen veg for those Mr Bump incidents.  A tea towel is way too thick.
  17. Makeshift toilet toll.  Really.
  18. Cleaning.  They are particularly fabulous for windows.
  19. Pillow.  Just like a rolled up cloud.
  20. Prince George went home from hospital in one.  Reason enough for anyone.
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Gym Bunnies

OOOOh, Saturday morning.   I’ve got two kids in two different classes. Its not yet 10am and I’m in the leisure centre cafe hoping someone I like, as opposed to someone I just know, comes to sit by me.

The cafe is a cross between Canada Goose and Mulberry.  I fit into neither category.  My hair, to quote @ScouseBirdProbs is a mixture of dry shampoo, hairspray and hope.  I have a younger child with me who is not sitting nicely drawing/reading/playing something quiet and      sensible but demanding a fruit shoot very loudly.  I will soon cave and give in, I feel ready to cope with the disapproving stares from the GreenTea Mums.  Today, I don’t care.  I’ve got my builders tea (with sugar), my toast (with butter), yesterdays jeans on and I lost my sense of humour when The Cyclist departed at 5am leaving me with a vets appt at 8am and La Famille Terrible to deal with.  I was never any good at French and do not know, nor care, if that makes sense.

Have to return to the vets at 3pm on Thursday.  That will be another early dart from work.  Wonder how long it is before they sack me?

On the plus side – I’ve got Charlie Bigham pies for tea and have just washed my Rosie for Autograph nightgown, which is heaven in a hoodie.

Poo Gate

Oh good god.  I came home from a Work Day, having not really achieved all I wanted to, but still with a tiny sense of smug satisfaction from functioning as a normal human being; when I walked smack bang into Poogate.

Youngest child, who has just reached the ripe old age of 3, has mastered going for a wee no problem, but is having serious poo issues. We have yet to have a poo on the toilet.  Tonight, we had a poo, while eating our pasta, on the Leather breakfast stool.  This was no ordinary poo, this was 4 days worth of congealed, foul smelling compressed never ending vileness.

The said poo was not just confined to underwear and clothes, but had bubbled over like a casserole onto the chair, into the seams at the side of the leather and down the aluminium legs.  The smell hit me like a frisbee when I walked in the hall and was confronted by today’s childminding victim, who was desperately trying to contain the situation whilst the dog had started to eat said Poo and her own teeny tiny baby was screaming like a banshee.

It was horrendous.  Fairy liquid, dettol, bleach and 2 packs of baby wipes later, the situation was still critical.  The smell seems destined to last forever.  The only one who was not bothered was the offender herself.

Tomorrow is another day.

Work-life, Work-life,Work-life….

Afternoon All…. I feel like my head is going to explode today.  This could be because I am stressed or it could be to do with the fact that I have decided I hate wearing my glasses and am experimenting without them.  Have taken 4 Panadol to deal with resulting headache, but figure that I will probably get used to it?  I am sure (many MANY moons ago) that I was told I only needed them for driving…

Today is a work day. Left the house  only 20 minutes behind schedule which is not too bad.  Torrential rain and therefore had to spend longer than the allocated time on my hair in order to give it a full coat of Tresemme Freeze Hold.  An ingenious product  if ever there was one.  It doesn’t have that horrible hairspray smell and actually works.  Even in gale force winds.  arrived at work with very wet feet, changed into heels from under desk and felt remarkably like I was capable, competent woman ready to do a days work.

Have tried very hard to keep focussed on tasks ahead.  Work requires a clear mind today.  Alas, have had to deal with the following:

  • text message from eldest child’s school reminding me about Parents evening tonite – That will be the third time this week I have had to leave work early for a domestic matter.  I only work three days, so that’s 3 out of 3.  No one else seems to be consistently late, and leave consistently early.  Why? WHY??!!
  • email from the Drainage people to tell me they have found the source of the problem – and mention a ‘blockage’.  I am too scared to call them back and hear the answer.
  • text from builder to announce he is at house to remedy ‘snags’ we spoke about 6 weeks ago.  I tell him that there is no one there and I need notice.  He says he will come back at 3pm – Why? There will still be no one there – he tells me he will wait till childcarer returns from school run.  Why is he able to organise my life better than me?
  • round robin email from my neighbours to our community email discussing the ongoing issue of dog poo in bags which are being hidden in the bushes by dog walkers.  Really.  Have not replied as am not convinced The Cyclist is not a culprit.

Anyway – back to very important work issues.  Will not dwell on the fact the my new , very capable and together-looking colleague (who incidentally, has more children than me) is probably doing very important work things on her computer and does not (like me ) have the Sainsburys online browser open.

Think I will go and purchase the new copy of 25 Beautiful Homes to make myself feel better before tackling very large pile of work on my desk, some of which has been there so long – I have forgotten what I am supposed to be doing with it.

Magazines, Castration and Changing the Bunk Bed Sheets

Well this is my first post, I am quite excited.  I have decided to blog in an attempt to keep my sanity and try and get a little perspective.  And if anyone else enjoys it/sympathises/understands…Great.

So… have spent all evening staring at the dog, who has just been castrated.  The collar that I paid £12 for (because it was not a lampshade, but like a inflatable ring..’more comfy’) seems to be pretty ineffective as he appears to be able to lick his balls (or where they used to be) anyway.  Fear I may wake up and he will have bled to death.

Before the kids went to bed, I had to change the sheets on the bunk beds.  I only did it yesterday, but a wee incident in the night meant I had to go through the whole process again.  And my god, what a process. I wish I could just put the sheets on and not obsess about them – but I cant.  I feel like I am beaten if I cant get the sheet on the top bunk properly under the mattress.  And not just one sheet, but the waterproof plastic thing as well.  I found myself lying on the  bottom bunk, pushing the mattress up with my feet and then trying to grab the few centimetres of fabric that were peering over the edge of the mattress so I could pull it down properly.  I cant believe this is normal behaviour.  As if anyone even cares.

I am knackered and have a horrible day ahead in work tomorrow.  I should just go to bed.  The Cyclist (aka my husband, he is having a mid-life crisis which has manifested itself in a cycling obsession) is cross with me for not going to bed early. But I have recorded The Real Housewives of Cheshire and I just love it.  Love it.  Hilarious. Magaaaaaaaaaaaaaallllllle.  Love Leanne.  Even though I don’t understand why she cant get her roots done properly.

Finally going to bed.  Dog still alive.  Packed my bag for work, packed the kids bags, found all the post hidden under a book bag.  A plumbing and draining offer from United Utilities, some blurb from Barclaycard and Aha!!! Oh yes – an offer to purchase 12 issues of Tatler for £12!!!! Bargain.  Love Tatler.  I don’t know why, I am not Posh, I did not go to Boarding School and the headpiece I wore at my wedding was not a family heirloom.  Nevertheless,  it is a guilty pleasure and I can mourn all the lovely make up/skin cream/facial scrub  I never get time to buy and dream about  Anya Hindmarch Totes and Boodles cocktail rings.