I have now been a mother for eight whole weeks and am starting to get the hang of it. For a few weeks now our little Angel has been sleeping through the nights which most definitely makes the days easier. But that’s not to say all the days are easy! A week or so ago I was taking William into work so I could have lunch with colleagues. We stopped off at a supermarket on the way to get William some milk when I realised I hadn’t got any sterile bottles with me. So we had to go back home. I dashed into the house to retrieve them and on the way out tripped over the hem of my maxi dress and exposed my boobs on the drive. I was only wearing the dress because a) it fits, and b) is long enough to not show my bum when I bend over. On the rather agitated drive to work I felt like such a bad mum. How could I forget his bottles and not for the first time? Why didn’t I learn after the first time? I also forgot his muslin cloth, what am I going to clean his face with if he’s sick?
The doubt set in and I started to cry, I genuinely thought ‘Why an earth did I think I’d be a good mum when I’m not good at anything?’
It was time for a reality check, reality check was said aloud, in the car, through massive sobs, and ladies, if in doubt pay attention, it’s a reality check for us all:
So you forgot some bottles? Big deal! You’ve sorted it! You are a mum, you are a good mum, YOU GREW AND BIRTHED A BABY, a brand new tiny human, YOU’RE A FUCKING WARRIOR, so what you made mistake? And what? It’s not the end of the sodding world so stop dwelling on it and STOP JUDGING YOURSELF SO HARSHLY.
Mammas if you are ever having a wobble, give yourself that reality check. (Maybe don’t say it around the kids I’m aware there are some naughty words in there and the last thing you want is your four year old dressing up for Children in Need and announcing to class and teachers he/she is a fucking warrior. …)
I am still struggling with my wardrobe. Mum tum is still very much present and I can’t say I’m doing much to get rid of it. William has taken to screaming blue murder in the mornings which has resulted in some questionable outfit choices and no make up. This is unfortunate because I’m a woman that needs make-up.
Wills had his jabs Wednesday and although it was bloody hard to watch it is definitely better than the alternative! I was so proud of how quickly he recovered, my brave little soldier! He was quite sleepy afterwards so much so that I put him in his cot an curled up in bed, both cats joined in the napping action, the first time we’ve all been asleep in the same room since I was pregnant. The house looks appalling but mamma needs sleep. I just won’t be inviting anyone around for a cuppa.
In other news:
Captain is becoming a feature of Williams bath time. Knowing my cat like I do, I suspect it won’t be long before he tries to climb in the tub with him.
Marmite has, on two separate occasions, left a live mousey downstairs for us. We are (through necessity) dab hands at catching and releasing them, however if Marms doesn’t witness this she will wait for them to resurface for hours. She waits in prime tripping spot. My life has flashed before my eyes so many times this week I could write my autobiography in great detail. (Spoiler alert, it wouldn’t be terribly interesting.)
We had a prolific poo explosion this week. Hubs had poo all over his arm, Wills had poo all over his body, there was poo all over the nursery (and I suspect some poo may have escaped from the mass clean up operation). Being too much for wipes we just put him in the bath.