babyurbeautiful

One of the most frustrating parts of potty training? Regression.

After weeks of ablutions (army slang, blame my dad) in the correct places, nap time followed by awakening with bone dry pants. So it's extremely frustrating to take ten steps forwards and eleven steps back.

My little one, Albie, now 3, had been in pants for weeks, I was really proud of his progress, despite various setbacks.
But as a whole we'd got some great teamwork going on.

Me: Need a wee, Albs?
Him: Yup

Every day at pre-school he's absolutely fine, and regularly toiletted  - so no problems there.

Cue this month.

Happily immersed in his new mini Thomas motorised train set, I asked him a few times if he needed a wee.

Me: Need a wee, Albs?
Him: Nope (hopping from left to right foot)

I watched the pattern of him grabbing his 'ding' (his bits) and hopping from one leg to the other, so the 'nope' clearly contradicted the answer.
I ensured the potty was right by his feet ready for the deluge, and carried on with dinner.
Generally if someone tells me no, they're ok - I'll take their word for it.

Two minutes later, I heard a huge howl, and a familiar tinkling noise. His earlier statement was fallacious.

Albie was obviously overwhelmed and ashamed by his accident on my very expensive cow hide rug (can I just point out this has now had pen, vomit, poo, urine and a variety of food items all over it) and he was in tears.

I won't deny, I felt really peed off (scuse the pun) and Usain bolted with the closest kitchen roll to mop up the what seemed to be the never ending pool of urine.

There are multiple reasons a child may regress:

Addition of a new brother or sister to the family
A urinary tract infection
Stress or anxiety
An abrupt change in routine
Starting at daycare
Being teased or disciplined for an accident at daycare
Having an unpleasant experience using the toilet
Any other major life change

Take into consideration any of the above points, I won't bore you to tears with the culprit to ours (no 7, if you must know and please refer back to our other potty training posts).

Although this time, I'd like to think Albie was just so absorbed with his trains he just simply didn't want to miss out on anything.

The Huggies® website recommend going back to basics as the best way to overcome a period of regression.
If you team with plenty of support and praise when appropriate, revert to your earlier routine of regular potty use and marking progress together on a reward chart.
Remind your little one to go to the potty when they're busy playing and look out for signs that they need a wee.
If the accidents go on for more than a few days, or if it's upsetting your child, going back to Huggies® Pull-Ups® for a while can also help.


Don't give up, there are always set backs, keep encouraging and praising your little one. Then when you're back on track, make the night shift the next hurdle....

*This post is sponsored by Huggies*

There seems to be a huge influx of preggers friends right now, and all are due throughout the Winter months.
Boo! for rain and wind, but yey for limited edition gingerbread lattes and new baby snuggles.

So it brings me to the awkward burden of; baby shower, new mum and then the new arrival gifts - not to mention the left out older toddler. Leaving you seriously skint even before the baby has made its first appearance out of the womb.

Not that I have any aversion to spoiling my friends and their new sprogs, but my bank manager may haul me up soon and have a 'quiet word' as a £25 budget is never a £25 spend, and times that by three.  Then there's the before and after (her bashed up bits)  gift, travel to the shower, and all the pretty wrapping, cards etc that go with it.
You get me? El skintos.

The baby box hamper was a delight to discover. When you set your budget, they really help you stick to it - £25 is £25 and plentiful. A bit 'boat is boat' - (if you've watched Shirley Valentine you'll know exactly what I'm harping on about) In short, it is what it is.
There's boxes for twins (£40), pure white boxes for the ethereal earth mothers who haven't yet been acquainted with 'korma poo'.

What I love is that, the company source simple and useful items, wrap in a inoffensive brown paper box and  unisex bright red bow and do all the hard work for you.

For £15, for instance, you'll get a Lamaze toy, branded trendy muslin square and a very useful bandana bib - which looks cool even before it's a bib! I've been known to splash £15 on wrapping, plus tissue, a bag and a card - so why not let someone do all the hard work for you and save a mighty load of expense too?

I particularly love Baby's first Christmas Hamper at £40 with a fair isle sleepsuit, hanging ceramic heart, Santa hat, cranberry glass candle (for mum, obvs), obligatory Muslin, dazzle rattle and all packaged and pretty.

https://www.thebabyboxcompany.com/new-baby-gifts.htmlThe Baby Box Company

Hi, I'm Cat.  I'm new to this site but here to stay.

 After a short hiatus and a mini makeover, we've both (myself & Lauren) put our heads together and decided to rebirth the baby (URbeautiful baby), so to speak.

 I'm going to regale you with my very long tale of how it took me to become part of the 'club' I hankered after for so long.

When I first toyed with the idea of blogging on Baby Ur Beautiful, it was going to be from a  slightly different perspective – it was going to be for the baby­-less; the women that apparently don’t hold a stake in societies future according to some failed leaders.

After years of peeing on sticks at various times in a month, faddy diets and the, “You’re leaving it a bit late” comments (which forced me to bury my head deeper into that cheeky bottle of Marlborough/gin and end the night sobbing on my friends shoulders). 
I remained the taboo one – the one without a child, and it's hard to forget these comments as my story eventually got its happy ending.

Don’t get me wrong. There were rays of hope. I got pregnant fairly quickly after we had decided to “start trying”. 
Six months after getting married I gagged at the smell of broccoli (which I love) shouted a lot at my husband, and suddenly it dawned on me – I was pregnant! 
I basked in my smug secret, idly looked at baby clothes and drank ginger ale from a champagne glass clad in my bridesmaid gear at my BFF’s wedding (theoretically I was an Usherette but that takes too long to explain!)
It was to be short lived, however. 

Two weeks after the giddy delight of watching two blue lines pop up on a stick it all went horribly wrong. In hindsight I’d ignored some key signs that it was about to. I’d searched chat sites for reassurance; brown discharge = normal, right sided cramping = normal, morning sickness miraculously disappearing at 8.5 weeks = normal.
Hospitals don’t deal with miscarriage very well – in fact they are fairly useless. 
On one level I can understand why; there’s nothing they can do and you are not ill. 
On another level I question the motives of some health care professionals for choosing such a vocation.

It was a Bank Holiday and we had gone into London to support a friend who had organised a fun run in aid of Leukaemia Research. I woke up that morning and didn’t feel great, but I couldn’t put my finger on exactly what felt wrong so I brushed it off – if Rich could run 10km whilst waiting to see if his treatment had worked and he was in remission I could get my backside into London to support him.
We met everyone at the pub post run. I had the most expensive pint ever. Two bottles of Becks Blue poured into a glass so no one would know ­- oh the irony! 
A couple of hours later we were finishing up; congratulating runners, saying our goodbyes to friends and planning to leave for along leisurely lunch to finish the afternoon. 
As a matter of course I popped to the toilet before we left. I’ll never forget that moment as I glance down and looked at the toilet bowl that was a sea of red. I froze. What should I do? 
I quickly pulled myself together told P (husband) we needed to go straight home and in a hushed whisper on the street outside I explained what I’d just seen. 
We decided to head home and go straight to the hospital. Once on the tube I changed my mind. I needed answers now - not in 40 minutes.
We headed to the nearest hospital in East London. We were seen quickly. They did the standard urine and blood tests and discerned what I already knew – I was pregnant. More than that they couldn’t tell me. 
The nurse asked to see my panty liner and declared (with a glimmer of patronisation) that with such a small amount of blood on it I was experiencing a standard level of bleeding that for some unexplained reason happens to a lot of women within pregnancy. 
The doctor readily agreed that I was looking ­ and evidently feeling ­far too well to be experiencing a miscarriage. 
I was packed off home and told that unless I experienced signs of an ectopic I was to wait until Wednesday and return for a scan.I went home. 
I continued to bleed. I returned on the Wednesday to the Early Pregnancy Unit(EPU) where after a 90 minute wait I was given an internal scan (with the wand that is now affectionately known as dildo cam in our house). The Sonographer, a lady of Polish origin, foraged about for a while and then said “Are you sure you were pregnant? There’s nothing there!” and that was how I learned that I had definitely lost my baby.

Miscarriage is much more common than people would think but it still remains a taboo subject. I am fairly open about most things in life so told people it had happened and many then opened up and shared their stories with me. 
Then there is the other side of the spectrum the people spouting the hard facts and the 1 in 10 pregnancies end in miscarriage. Slightly tactless, you think?

The one thing everybody assured me was at least I knew I could get pregnant. 
That it would happen again very soon. It didn’t.

After a year where nothing happened I asked for a referral to fertility clinic. We were both “textbook perfect” for everything with the exception of me having fibroids and these seemed to be of little concern. 
There followed a year’s treatment of various medications. Some that stimulated eggs, others that released them and we were sent home to perform mechanical sex 18 hours later - still nothing. 
The Consultant decided that IVF was our only option and we agreed, attended an introductory lecture and planned to begin at the end of the year. Three weeks later I discovered I was pregnant.
This pregnancy was much shorter lived than the first. In fact I could have blinked and missed it. 
I discovered I was pregnant on the Friday evening and by 7am on Monday morning I was sitting in A+E wedged between a lady who appeared to be suffering a nervous breakdown and a surly looking boy cuffed to an accompanying policeman. I had no doubt this time I had miscarried. The clots of liverish sludge, the agonising stomach cramps that were forcing me to try and curl into a foetal position as I unashamedly sobbed. 
This time the news was broken in a slightly different way. A very harassed Indian doctor with a plethora of ear stubble simply said to me, “you were pregnant but now you’re not”. 

IVF had to be delayed as a result until the start of this year. I decided to throw everything I had at it. My Friday night tipple became peppermint tea. I had acupuncture, reflexology and took up yoga. 
I meditated. I reacted quite sensitively to all drugs. It was hell on earth. I felt tired, sick emotional and as though my body didn’t belong to me – it didn’t. All seemed to go quite well. They harvested 11 eggs, 10 fertilised. Then 10 fell apart. They thought the drugs might have been too potent. They weren’t quite sure. At my follow up appointment I was told that it was only worth one more go. We agreed to pay an extra 1k for various drugs; anti ­rejection drips, Clexane to thin the blood, steroids (which would ensure a hefty weight gain on top of all the hormones). This all came with a health warning though – I was old (38 to be precise) and therefore I was probably not getting pregnant because my eggs were old. If round 2 didn’t work my next option was egg donation.

After a long chat we decided to give my body a break and delay round 2 until the beginning of August.
So here I am. I should be preparing for round 2 of IVF. Instead I am preparing for a 20 week scan!

My initial reaction was “How did that happen?", apart from the obvious answer! 
Typically ­and almost annoyingly as everyone says it’s when you are not thinking about it that you fall *coughs Lauren*  – I had become pregnant in a normal month where I had eaten whatever I fancied, drunk more than a little (I’d been on a long weekend to Ireland – enough said) and generally had fun. 
I’m naturally delighted. I’m also petrified. 

The first weeks after I found out were the worst. There was no excitement when I saw two blue lines – I didn’t dare feel excitement, but when I saw a heart beat on a grainy picture in our local hospital I felt a surge of love I’d never felt before. I felt it was important to acknowledge the struggle it has been to get to where I am today – and I am mindful it is a long journey ahead. 

Future blog posts will therefore have to be about the here and now – all the bits that no one tells you and I promise they won’t be as long as this (within reason!)

Hands up who hasn't tried micellar water yet?

Are you a mum?

Do you use face wipes?

Are you falling asleep with your make-up on?

Is your skin often dry?

Can you be arsed to cleanse and tone?

Do you know how drying and bad some face wipes are for the skin?

If you answered yes to more than two of those - listen up!

Micellar water should be a staple in any mums beauty routine, simply because it's the laziest and easiest way to cleanse and leaves skin supple and squeaky clean.

The teeny micelle molecules in the water use a clever technology to attract the dirt (a bit like a magnet) which then lifts away make-up and grime - and there's no need to rinse.

Simply soak your cotton wool in a reasonable amount, and with one deft swoop you've removed the grime of the day and can collapse in bed.

BUT here's the exciting bit....

The Sanctuary (of Spa fame) are SO confident about their new micellar product, they're offering customers the chance to bring in an old pack of wipes to swap for a sample of their Cleanse Foaming Micellar Water - FOR FREE!

This is only on the weekend of 19-20th MARCH in BOOTS stores nationwide. 




So get down there armed with your wipes and a smile.

Everyone loves a spot of multi-tasking, if it's not pinching the fellas razor (although I don't currently have one to pinch off of) then why not start stealing the baby's stuff too?

I'm suffering with a head cold and snotty nose. I can't stand that horrible thick nasal speech - and if someone sounds ever so slightly 'flu-ey' I recoil in horror and shuffle away.
If it happens to be on the train - I scuttle to the next carriage. That dramatic.

Right now, I've got a giant red hooter and a tissue hanging out of my nose to stem the persistent runny snot, and Albie keeps exclaiming: 'silly mummy!'

My absolutely go-to baby cold product is Calpol Vapour plug and Nightlight - it's bloody marvellous.
It can be used from 3 months plus and helps clear the nasal passages and make breathing easier for baby. It was initially recommended by a dear mummy friend, Stacey - 'Haaaaiiii Stacey!'
I've not looked back since.



It has a scent reminiscent of a spa, with lavender and camomile pulsing through the plug-in. Which is why, instead of my usual Beechams powders, I'm stealing Albie's product. Although I did purposely go out and buy this for ME today.

It comes with 5 refill pads, and says it works for up to 8 hours with each pad. I'd say you get 2 days fragrance/vapour out of each one - with it waning slightly after the first 24 hours.

My entire house becomes enveloped with lavender, and I feel it really helps with congestion.
I have so many of the plugs kicking about the house, so if, god forbid, you're an entire house of flu-bags - then just pop one of the plug/nightlight refills in each room - and you can all breathe easily!
Either way it's a great alternative to caffeine/all sorts of heart-race inducing (for me, anyway) cold and flu remedies.

A couple of paracetamol at my worse points, and a night with my Vapour Plug, I'll go with the alternative option, thank you!
Oh, plus some Vicks rub on the soles of my feet. Boom!


LN

It's like it's the elephant in the room, the dead mouse in his Ikea kitchen (more about that another time) or the floating shit in the bath.

I don't know about you, but I'm still in winter mode. OBVIOUSLY. What with the absolutely baltic weather 'n all.

*walks in, cranks the heating up to 30*

Which translates quite simply in my house as: black 40 denier tights, black jeans, black leggings and sh*t loads of layers.

It also means I can hide the absolute forest that is threatening to sprout through the aforementioned - by donning my sexy leg attire to the office (and no-one is any wiser).
I can still look fit, but full of fuzz.

Most men would be horrified if they saw what lives beneath my leggings. But it's lucky I don't have one to judge - so I wantonly parade said chewbacca pins in the comfort of my own home.

It was brought to my attention recently that us ladies are being completely ripped off in the hair removal stakes.
Given the fact, come summer, we desperately need to depilate. Unless of course, we want to be mistaken for our German sisters (soz, Helga) or look like we're wearing the latest 'furry trimmed' bikini bottoms, we're under duress to buy razors - often at eye-wincingly stupid prices.
But worst of all, a mans pack of five is cheaper than one of our pretty little pink counterparts - JUST BECAUSE THEY'RE BLOODY PINK AND SMALLER (yes, I am getting shouty!)

I find myself re-buying the body of the razor and ten ton of packaging to avoid buying overpriced heads.
Did you know it works out cheaper to buy the body with two free heads? Maybe you did.

I then use this razor for the next few months, find myself getting ingrown hairs, nicks and cuts, or patches of hair where the blade has worn down and isn't doing feck all - all because I don't want to have to pay another £6-10 for a new body/razor etc four weeks down the line.
So that's my FFS moment.

On a FFS vibe - have you heard of Friction Free Shaving? Probably not.



It's the first UK based razor subscription service where four heads are delivered to you once a month for as little as £3 and no P & P. Amazing.

This isn't a sponsored post - it's just to raise awareness to fellow mums of this brilliant service that will make life a hell of a lot easier and something else you don't have to think about (nor nick off your hub - wasn't a shaving pun FYI).

If you know me you'll know about my penchant for leopard print.
Everyone laughs that I dress my son in leopard print leggings - yes, stare!

I know he'll be partying at Burning man one day, goddesses draped off him while donning his leopard print leotard with full confidence thanks to mummy, dear!

You can imagine how excited I was when I spied a towel by Cuddledry in LEOPARD PRINT, and a few days later, over it was sent to Babyurbeautiful for review purposes.
It's my first ever towel of the particular brand - and I've heard so many good things about them.

Cuddle Paw - adorable

I always thought they were for newborns, but turns out they now make them for toddlers too.

Cuddledry burst onto the scene a few years ago when they introduced an apron towel that made newborn/mummy bath time juggling a sinch.
You attach part of the towel around your neck (like an apron) which leaves your hands free to wrap your little one up warmly with the rest.
Naturally, it was two mums behind the ingenious design.

There should be an earlier review on the blog from one of the other girls, prior to me being a mummy.

After the success of the apron towel, they've created more items which include robes, washcloths, swimming towels and now this one - part dressing up/part drying - and they are designed to suit and go up to around 3 to 4 years old (dependant if you have a giant on your hands).

What I do love about this particular towel is, it's very generous, not one of these minuscule flannel sized things that wouldn't even cover an arse cheek -  Even I have used it and FYI it covered a lot more than that.

But best of all?
IT. HAS. EARS. ON.

Cosy little Snow Leopard

That's one of the reasons you have children, aside from the spectacular straining poo faces, dressing them up in all sorts of gorgeousness, mainly with ears.

I have attempted to take a pic, with no luck - although I'll attach a nice blurry out of focus one for you - just for true representation.
The actual towel isn't just roomy, it's warm and so luxuriously soft. I can see why everyone raves about the brand.

Double Leopard Print - always

It feels part fleecy, part wooly towel - either way it dries the water off super fast and at the same time your toddler thinks he's a tiger/dino/whatever he fancies.
It's made with bamboo fibre and cotton - this makes it 60 per cent more absorbent than cotton alone - and has natural antibacterial properties.
This particular snow leopard design donates a minimum of £1 to the WWF to help with the endangered Snow Leopard species, it retails at £34.99. It's much more than I would spend on one of my Christy Towels, granted.

After escaping from the bath, my little one sprinted up the stairs with it attached to his head crying: 'Raaaa!' (tiger, obvs).
It takes the appearance of a cape, there are other super cute designs too like 'Cuddlesafari' and 'Cuddlepony'.
Despite the price tag, the quality is so good - you'll understand why you'd part with your pennies.

For the next half an hour I grappled with him and attempted to wrestle him down to slap his nappy on (before he pissed on my floor, or worse..)

It would make a great gift, after all any 2 to 3 year-old will be laden with so many books, plastic delights at their birthday - a hooded bath towel will make a welcome addition - and leopard print to boot!

Cuddledry Cuddle Paw Toddler Dress up Towel £34.99

LN x

I know we're predominantly a mummy and baby beauty blog, but sometimes we like to go off piste, which is rather apt given it's the height of ski-ing season.

I've been rather piste off with the issues my stomach caused over Christmas - I spent days cramping with excess stomach acid, then living on mash potato/soup/stews after my excessive cheese/pigs wrapped in blankets consumption. Then it continued into early Jan/Feb - after a few heavy nights on the sauce, heavy eyes for me the next morning where I'd be running up and down the stairs to make the loo - it was awful.
In short, I'm allergic to wheat/barley - still NOT fully proven, but my arse would contest if it wasn't.

Gluten free items tend to be bland, full of sugar/salt to make them less tasteless/cardboard-like, but we've come on leaps and bounds. Suddenly companies are proud to boast of their wares with scrumptious puddings, bread, even sausages (yes, those buggers are full of flour/wheat/all sorts!)
So I thought I'd round up a few that are keeping my stomach very happy - and my son also likes....

Pudology



I can't believe these sweet treats are gluten and dairy free (also vegan friendly) given how great they taste.
The one floating my boat is Millionaires' Pud.
It's not too sweet, has a lovely mixture of chocolate, a nice biscuity base (even though it isn't biscuits, obvs) and a delicious caramel layer made with soya milk.
The chocolate is laced with madagascan vanilla and the biscuit base is a gluten-free friendly blend of rice, potato, tapioca, maize and buckwheat.
A lot of love has gone into these puds - and I insist you try this particular one.

9/10

Available from Tesco

Amy's Kitchen




One of my favourite items from Amy's kitchen is the Broccoli & Cheddar bake, perfect for those lazy gluten-free lovers - one to shove in the micro.
A fusilli pasta (rice pasta) with cheddar sauce and broccoli and even faux breadcrumbs for that extra crunchy texture, it's certainly a winner with me and my little man.
No meat, fish, poultry OR eggs are ever used in Amy's products - again, I'm in disbelief - from the fact it tastes so bloody good. It's also vegetarian society approved.

Sainsbury's Nationwide

8/10

Mrs Crimbles



So we were sent a variety of Mrs Crumbles items to try, and the one that made say 'hello!', or should I say, 'Bonjour!' was the authentically French madeleine cakes.
Each individually wrapped, I found myself eating one for breakfast, in the afternoon with a cup of tea - quite frankly, all day long. It's no wonder I don't roll out of the door...
The chocolate version with a nice gooey choc filling was my preference, as the classic one was a bit sweet, I could feel my teeth groaning in pain with the sugar content - and they had a slight aftertaste - but the chocolate was spot on.

 www.mrscrimbles.com

7/10

So if you're just generally avoiding wheat/naughtiness - I can't stop you on the naughty front, but give my gluten-free heroes a go.

LN x

Check out Ebay for reward charts or just make your own!

Madam and her chart

A note posted under my door!

Sometimes, in the harsh light of the department store, I sashay past a mirror, and get a shock at my  face.