I know, I know, I know

I’m hopeless. I am so sorry I’ve not updated you all in far, far too long. Just when I think I’m getting the hang of this parenting lark, something will happen, like a growth spurt, or teething will start or we’ll have two weekends away on the trot, and everything goes haywire again. Luckily, our boy is portable, placid and just gorgeous.

We’re still not in a routine, as in what Ms Ford Baby Dictator would call a routine. We have a loose idea of what we’re doing, he’ll wake up between 5:30 – 6:30, I can tell if after that feed he’ll go back to sleep or not, if we do, then frabjous joy, I’ll go back to sleep too! If not, then I’ll stagger about for a bit until I wake up properly. I have no idea how I am functioning as a human, given that I would prefer 10 hours daily, now I’m getting 6-7 hours of broken sleep, if I’m lucky. I’ll change his bum, put him in a chair in the kitchen and start consuming cups of tea while he watches me get my breakfast ready. Either way, I usually listen to a podcast over breakfast, he’s starting to nod back off again now, his chin sinking into his chest as his eyes close, open, close, open. When he’s asleep, I’ll have my shower, get dressed and sort my hair out.

My hair. Heck. It’s now shoulder length, ridiculously thick and thanks to the pregnancy hormones leaving my body, falling out all over the place. I find it everywhere, vacuuming up kitten sized balls every couple of days.

I’m also struggling with the getting dressed thing too. As I’ve dropped that much weight feeding him, I only have one pair of trousers that fit me, the pair of jeans I brought while Wiz was here, they’re getting too big for me already, just over a month later. I put on a breast-feeding top this morning, and just took it straight back off again as it was so big as to be laughable. And until you’re feeding a baby, you have no concept of getting your boobs out easily. I still wear vest tops underneath most other tops, so if I need too, I’m not getting my whole top-half out on display.

After I’m dressed, he’s stretching, farting and waking up, we’ll get on with the rest of the day; housework with him in the Moby wrap, walking over to Chaddy to collect the post, or just out for a walk. Once a week we go to the library, once a week we meet up with the other Yummy Mummies, every weekend we go swimming as a family.

The first four months since his arrival have been like a black hole, but I can honestly see light at the end of the tunnel. He’s not as demanding already, he’s happy playing with his toys or hands and will chatter to me telling me all about it, while I iron or tidy up the house. Tomorrow is a public holiday here in Victoria, for a frickin horse race (!!!) I’m going to take advantage of the two adults in the house to catch-up on the housework we’ve missed the past couple of weekends and plan out some meals, finish the ironing off completely and finally tidy up the spare room where we moved the desk from the living room, a month ago…

I’ll try to be more regular and update you more often, I miss writing.

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