A battle of wills with Wills.

I think perhaps the title of this post sounds a little more dramatic than it is. Basically, I have been attempting to up the amount of milk Wills has each feed so that he can go a bit longer between them.

He’s have non of it! He’s quite happy with small amounts frequently.

They day after I got out of hospital a midwife came to visit. This is standard procedure in this country, they come to your home to check that you are your baby are both well and your infant isn’t sleeping in a sack on a bed of nails. I remember sitting on the sofa wincing at my tender downstairs hoping to all that is holey that I wouldn’t need to poo until I was a million percent healed and feeling fuzzy from lack of sleep and about a gazillion antibiotics. The midwife asked simple questions; How many wet nappies has he had? (I had no answer to this, I looked at my husband panicked, how the hell should I know? Are we supposed to count them?) Hubs and I made an educated guess and as the midwife wrote our guesstimate down without looking alarmed I figured it was an okay total. The next question she asked me was how often was I feeding him? A little confused by this question I replied ‘Well, when he’s hungry,’ wondering if this was a trick question, ‘So you are doing baby led feeding?’

‘Err yes baby led feeding…’

As it happens I’m doing baby-led sleeping and eating and showering. Yep consider me baby-led.

In my naivety it hadn’t occurred to me that there were other ways. It seemed to make sense to feed when hungry. And this is not to say I feel there is anything wrong with a feeding schedule, a friend of mine who is a mummy of two can tell me what time her little one is getting fed. And her baby is both beautiful and beautifully content.

I can tell you what time my cats  will get fed. (Well ish  they have got very patient with us now we have Wills, pretty much through necessity.) Wills can sometimes feed and go for hours before he wants more, other days he’ll feed and in what feels like four seconds want feeding again. My vain attempt at altering this haphazard approach to nutrition has made me reflect on my haphazard approach to life.

I am not organised, I am not a list girl, I rarely plan things in advance. I will be the mum the school has to chase for permission slips. My sons lunch boxes will fester in his school bag much the same as mine fester under my desk at work.

Can I change my disorganised ways?

At 30, probably not.

Fortunately hubs is the yin to my yang, the list maker, the lunch maker, the lunchbox chaser upper, the sorter of important letters, the man that remembers to take re-usable shopping bags to the supermarket. Yep, thankfully he still finds my casual approach to life-admin amusing.

There are much worse things to be than disorganised, (probably not what an organised person thinks) and I’ve managed so far. So I think instead of trying to change, I’ll just accept I am me, there will always be room for improvement but who has the time?

Now I really must go, my child wants feeding.

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Author: thebumpchroniclesblog

Thirty year old first time mum, sharing parenthood experiences/fails.

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