I've been washing (and occasionally ironing, although I assure my mother frequently that I spend most evenings ironing her grandchildrens uniforms) school uniform for over 4 years now, and for one child this is a fairly simple task. Nobody warned me that two school uniforms are an utter and complete nightmare though, seriously it's horrendous. Both kids have white polo shirts; every time I turn around there's another one, I swear the things are multiplying. I think they have about six each (although Darcie has some more in a bag somewhere, I have neither the energy nor the inclination to find it) but it seems like there are hundreds. For every one white polo top I wash, another four seem to end up in the washing mountain, previous years if I was lucky Darcie might wear the same one for two days (sounds a bit skanky but I have it on good authority that other kids do this as well) but no way this year. White is not the best colour for my children, they're proper muck magnets and never seem as clean as other kids somehow. Darcie and Harvey often get through an entire uniform each per day, and it's horrific attempting to ensure they have clean things for the next day - hence the frantic midnight washing and drying, surely other people do this too?!
Anyway, this entry was going to be mainly about my little boy. I'm now the proud (ish) mummy of a 5-year-old, my Harv has been around for half a decade. The days when we just had Darcie (or that glorious time pre-children) seems like a lifetime ago, yet it isn't five minutes since I was sitting in the bathroom looking at the positive pregnancy test and thinking Oh my God! Harvey was more planned than Darcie (in fact he couldn't have been less planned than her) but it still came as a bit of a shock. She was three and about four months when he was conceived; Simon and I had often talked about having Number Two but were always reluctant to actually commit ourselves to trying for another baby. Serious money problems when Darcie was tiny meant we weren't really in a position to have another child, and although like many couples we took the odd chance our hearts weren't really in it and we knew it would be a while, if ever, before we put another person on the planet. I can't remember exactly when, but Simon & I eventually did the old just-wait-and-see-what-happens thing and then suddenly out of the blue something did happen. I'm my mums only child, she was an only child (as is my dad funnily enough) and her mum was apparently an only one too.....I remember seriously thinking several times that maybe the pattern would continue and Darcie would end up as our only child. I firmly believe that there's no right thing to do when it comes to how many kids you have, or what age gaps between them.....there are so many pros and cons. I certainly never hated being raised as an only child; I had privileges and attention which I simply wouldn't have had as one of two or more siblings. I had a happy childhood but wished sometimes I'd had a brother or sister to grow up with, and I wanted that for Darcie.
There's an old saying - "new house, new baby" and I remember Simon & I joking about this as we moved into our current flat on 2nd November 2004 - however we never dreamed that just one year and one week later we'd have that new baby! We chucked away/donated to charity shops tons of baby and toddler things that had once belonged to Darcie in the run up to our move, as thoughts of a possible second child were shoved to the back of our minds. Typically we cursed ourselves later on for this, as barely three months after we moved we hit the jackpot and another Rudd/Balding was created. I'll always remember staggering out of the bathroom to break the news to an anxious Simon, and suddenly our three-year-old daughter innocently strolled into the front room clutching her battered copy of "Topsy and Tim and the New Baby"....she knew nothing about what was going on so it was a very strange coincidence. We still have that book and funnily enough it's one of Harvey's favourites, I often smile when we read it.
The afternoon Harvey was born was glorious, the hospital room we were in was stifling and naturally he wasn't coming out in a hurry. My due date had been 27th October, and after having a completely horrendous labour with Darcie I'd worried for months and was desperate to avoid induction. Due date came and went, Simon & I did our best to persuade Blob (Darcie's nickname for him) to shift but I'd obviously provided him with a very comfortable home which he was reluctant to leave. After lots of stress and tears I finally agreed to be induced on 8th November which was a Tuesday, my mum travelled down from Croydon where they lived at the time, to collect Darcie on the Monday afternoon. It was only the second time she'd ever been to stay with my parents without us, it was over 70 miles away, she was only just 4 and I was panic stricken. We had no other viable options though and in actual fact she had a blast with her grandparents while her poor mother went through hell in the delivery room.
Thankfully this time we weren't ignored, and the staff were generally nicer and more understanding than first time around. I was admitted at 6pm on the Tuesday and gave birth 22 hours later, not bad going for me. It was still a bit of a haul though and not an experience I'd like to repeat. The drip was inserted wrongly which resulted in the stuff designed to speed up my labour simply building up in my hand for about 4 hours before anyone realised - my poor hand suddenly swelled up gigantically and the midwife virtually accused me of doing it deliberately! her name was Leah, she was all "I'm only 26, I'm a fully fledged midwife, aren't I fantastic and I don't need any help or advice from the doctors because I know it all already" at first I thought she was okay but she gradually became more and more annoying as Wednesday progressed. To make matters worse she was newly pregnant with her first baby, all very exciting and she felt the need to share her news with every single nurse/doctor/consultant/cleaner who came near our room. Leah complained about feeling sick, hungry and hot the entire time and I was sorely tempted to suggest I got off the bed so she could have a lay down - I seriously believe she'd have agreed!
Finally, thanks to a scary but thankfully very effective epidural, and a lovely anaesthetist, things looked up and the end was in sight. Final bit of drama when Harvey went into distress and I was on the verge of a caesarean (found out later that they were actually preparing theatre which was all very dramatic) but I proved myself to be fantastic and pushed him out as I was terrified at the thought of being sliced open! All along I'd thought we'd have another girl as my pregnancy was almost identical to first time around, but despite not having my glasses on and being drugged up to the eyeballs, I saw the dangly bits and realised we had a boy. Simon had nearly passed out next to me (poor love, it was all too much for him, I think I was holding him up at one stage) but managed to confirm we did indeed have a son (I needed this confirmation - I'd been convinced all along that Darcie was a boy and embarrassingly thought the cord was a willy when she finally arrived, the evil midwife took great delight in pointing out my mistake) I was thrilled to have correctly identified the sex of my baby second time around, still quite proud of myself for getting it right now!
So at 3.56pm on Wednesday 9th November 2005 our Harvey was born. I still can't quite believe that I have two children sometimes, especially the boy/girl combo lots of people seem to crave - it's cool to have one of each although we honestly wouldn't have minded two of the same. I didn't feel any differently towards Harvey when he was first born than with Darcie - all this "I gazed at my beautiful baby bathed in the golden sunlight and felt complete love run through me like a river" stuff is a bit of a fantasy in my opinion, I felt happy but mainly terrifically relieved that I'd survived labour, a bit shell shocked and totally exhausted!
With Harvey, things have been different though. Somehow I clicked with him much more easily than I ever have with Darcie, in theory it shouldn't be like this as I have more in common with her in many ways. Harvey has always, always wanted me, he's never pushed me away like Darcie does and I reckon that's the main difference between them. It's rare than he doesn't want to go out with me, or do something with me, or have a cuddle and I suppose he was a bit of a Mummy's boy when he was tiny and perhaps still is. Harvey's open and loving towards me, Darcie's resentful and angry, sometimes she doesn't even seem to grasp why I'm living with her. It's like she doesn't see me as her mother, I'm not sure why though.
It's hard to remember Harvey's baby days now, which makes me sad - Darcie seemed to be a baby for a long time, and I can still vividly remember little things about when she was tiny. I think maybe it's a first baby thing; with Harvey I had less time to enjoy him sadly as I obviously had a four-year-old who needed me too. We definitely have a bond though and a fairly normal relationship which I can't achieve with Darcie. I know she adores him, but she was absolutely desperate for a sister, something she reminds me of frequently. I feel guilty pretty much constantly anyway, but I do feel especially guilty sometimes that she didn't get her little sister - would things be any different if Harvey had been a girl? Deep down I don't think so, but she might be happier, she might like me more if I'd had a girl, or even if we hadn't had another child. I wanted Darcie to have a sibling, someone to grow up with, to have something I never had, but was this the wrong decision? Are some kids just meant to be only children? I know all this stuff with her isn't simply about Harvey, it's so much more complicated than that, but did we make a mistake? Personally I know having my little boy isn't something I will ever regret, he's my baby and I'm so glad that I've got two children. But was it the right thing for her, we'll never know I suppose. Occasionally I wonder if we should have a third baby, hopefully it would be the sister she longs for (although my gut instinct is that we'd get another boy) and this would make her like me. It's sad though, and definitely not a reason to bring another child into the world.
I keep looking at Harvey and wondering where my baby and then my little boy have gone. He's still so little but suddenly seems so big at the same time if that makes any sense. All along I've dreaded him copying Darcie and hating me too, recently he's started telling me to go away occasionally which hurts so much. I know he wants me to leave the room because then Darcie won't start screaming, but it's awful, even though he follows this with "I still love you" which makes it slightly better. My poor little boy is clearly torn between his sister and his mum, it's like we're in two different camps and he has to keep running between them, not sure where his loyalties should lie. I try my best to assure Harvey that it's okay if he wants to be with her and not me, and that he can love both of us, but sometimes I get angry and hate myself for it. It's bad enough that Darcie hates me, but it feels like she's trying to destroy my relationship with Harvey too and turn him against me, although she probably isn't doing this consciously. She lashes out at me regularly (her current thing is to thump and slap my arm, she's a strong girl and my right arm is covered in bruises and really hurts at the moment) and now Harvey has started pushing me and kicking me, not often but sometimes. Of course he's probably copying people at school and at the moment he's utterly exhausted and overwhelmed with it all which makes him ratty, but......I have these moments of sadness when I wonder if he'll turn out just like her. Logically I know he won't, Harvey reacts very differently to me most of the time and little boys often have violent tendencies but sometimes I hate Darcie for doing things which he copies.
I keep meaning to write about Harvey & school plus the art therapy and counselling which is now happening but get sidetracked every time! It's now pushing 1am and the noises from the washing machine seem to have subsided.....better go and rescue the uniform as I can feel my eyes slowly closing.........zzzzzzzzzzz
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