Woke feeling fuzzy. Not from one Sauvignon Blanc too many – as might have been the reason pre-baby – but more of a stupor. Where did December go? Where did last year go?? I feel like I’ve been in a post-natal time-warp since Chewy (my darling little cheeky and very chewy baby) arrived. How I survived Christmas in this fuzz I have no idea – and Chewy’s teething has propelled me into an even deeper other dimension.
Making my New Year resolution a day late: ‘get over myself; get on with it; get results’!
This New Year resolution is proving very hard to stick to. For example: ‘We’ (I am using the Royal ‘We’) are now on a 10pm-1am-3am-4am nightly waking schedule. For example: ‘We’ have chosen to consume just two Fromage Frais a day (NB – supermarket variety was rejected – can an 8 month old identify brands?!). Signs and cues that I used to be able to identify have all merged into one generic lump…is it teething; is it a cold; is it something worse; or is it just my baby being a prize-winning horror??
I’m free! For 20 hours I am no longer Mummy! I felt bad when it came to the actual departure; Chewy had this far-off gaze as if to say ‘I knew you would leave me eventually’. Then I realised he was just filling his nappy, so I stepped outside, closed the door and did a Morecambe and Wise style skip on my way to the car! Bring Me Sunshine! Result!
You know that feeling when you want everything to be okay at home with your baby when you aren’t there, because you’ve never really left them before and maybe the world might fall apart if you leave? But on the other hand, you want your child to throw every trick in the ‘101 Ways Baby Can Misbehave’ book at whoever is minding them, just so as they know what you have to deal with day in, day out? Well that was how I had been feeling all day.
At 7.20 DH sent me a pic of Chewy cuddled up in bed with his Balancing Bears Comfort Chew and he just looked beyond adorable – my heart melted! It was our first Instagram-worthy picture of Chewy EVER!! I will also admit to being a tad jealous it wasn’t me that captured the perfect moment. What if they had a Gina Ford ‘Contented Baby’ text book day, rather than a ‘101 Ways Baby Can Misbehave’ book day? So, by 10.15 I couldn’t resist it anymore and called. Immediately felt vindicated when DH abruptly asked if he could hang up as Chewy had just woken with what looked like his second bottom tooth through. Result!
Mama Bird (that’s me!) has returned to the nest. Papa Bird’s demeanour suggests a fairly tough 22 hours (Mama Bird had a slight delay on the way back, due to over-sleeping and sourcing sustenance for the day ahead). Papa Bird gave me a dry peck on the cheek and wearily signposted me to the playroom from which a sob/bleating noise was emanating, while he sloped off for a lie down. ‘Welcome home’ I muttered under my breath. Then Chewy clocked me, smiled a super-cute two-toothed grin, and stretched his little arms out to me. And my heart melted all over again. Result!
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