Please bear with us…

Motherhood is hard. Not everybody knows this: People that don’t have children or anything to do with them, people who had children tens of years ago and therefore can’t remember exactly what it’s like early on, people who don’t like children, children themselves, me before I had a child…. the list goes on.  Today I had to get myself and William presentable to see the midwife. I have about one good get up and out a week, which was Thursday. Today; not so much. William fed more often last night AND would not settle. This morning he decided a productive use of his time was screaming the place down and pissing all over mummy. Whilst cleaning baby urine of myself,  William took the opportunity to throw up all over himself.  Whilst this was going on I was attempting to resemble a person capable of looking after a baby and was finding the scream-a-thon hard to deal with. I cried too. What a pair.
All went well at with the midwife, our little chunker is now 10lb 2oz my stitches are healing well (was in two minds about whether I wanted her to check them but so many people have now seen my lady-parts I figured one more wouldn’t hurt), and we’ve been signed off midwife care, huzzarh! Afterwards we met Nanny and Aunty in a local shopping area for coffee. It was quarter to two and the coffee my mother in law brought me was the first drink I’d had all day. William enjoyed cuddles and did his angel baby routine, the one that leads people to believe he’s that calm and collected all the time and I have nothing to complain about. But the truth is I’d sat in the car in tears before meeting them.
In short please bear with us.
I have so many people to see and thank for cards, gifts and kind words after Williams birth but on some days I don’t eat until my husband get s home. I am not a very organised person, and I am terribly forgetful (head like a sieve according to my grandma… she was right), that coupled with baby brain and you have a recipe for something that looks sort of human(ish) but with none of the mental capacities. We appreciate everything we’ve received and we are whole-heartedly thankful, we just might not have got round to telling you yet…
In other news:
I have found my glasses! They were lurking under the sofa with an old smartie, a multitude of cat toys and bird feathers…
William sneezed in my mouth yesterday.
Captain, whilst chasing a fly round the living room during a 2:00am feed, has disposed of a large spider that has been in the corner of our living room so long I had actually become quite attached to it.  Fare thee well Sir Legsalot.

Lured into a false sense of sanity…

Today our son is three weeks old, the pain of childbirth is already a distant memory and my stitches have healed to the point I can sit down on the loo, huzzah!

However my cognitive abilities are somewhat diminished. I’ve lost my glasses. I need them to drive, thankfully I have prescription sunglasses so as long as it remains sunny I can drive without causing a pile -up.(No night time driving for me!) The hunt continues. I spill more drinks then I care to mention, my carpet is now covered in: baby sick, milk, water, squash and the remains of whatever the cats have murdered. I keep forgetting to brush my teeth. I keep forgetting to eat. I forget to drink, then when I do remember, chances are I chuck said drink over the carpet. A lot of my mental miss-haps (I couldn’t confidently tell you the date today) could be cured by sleep. But despite being so tired, sleep doesn’t come that easy.

This morning I’d fed William and gone back upstairs to bed. He was settled in his Moses basket, however he hadn’t gone to sleep like he usually does, so I was already waiting to see if he’d sleep or start screaming. Captain decided to join me in the bed, this involved loud purring, slobbering on my arm and poking me in the face with his paws. Ooooh relaxing.

Back downstairs later on, I look round to see William fast asleep in his basket, Captain curled up on the back of the chair and Marmite sleeping under the table. Felt pretty upset not to be involved in sleep club, took the opportunity to get myself a large drink. Kicked it all over the carpet. Cried. Better luck tomorrow?


The Bump Chronicles: The postpartum Years.

This is the post excerpt.

The Bump Chronicles began as a regular whinge on Facebook about how crap (in my opinion) being pregnant feels. After the safe delivery of my rather hefty bundle of joy we progressed to the ‘Postpartum Years’. So two weeks and six days into my full-time role as ‘Mummy’, in between soothing a crying infant, getting covered in all sorts of unsavoury bodily fluids and trying to remember to feed my two house panthers, I thought I’d share snippets of my ‘parenting journey’. Think less epic, life affirming voyage, more traffic jams, faulty brakes, getting ripped off at service stations, throwing up in the car type of journey and I think we’ll be on the same page!