I’m having one of those days. Other parents of little kids understand what I mean by that. Last night Mr 2 woke many times. So did Mr 4 months. Note how I don’t say three times, or four times, or even five times. I’ve found it’s easier to cope if you don’t count the wakenings. And if you drink a lot of coffee.
I’m hoping that having an interest outside of being a human pacifier/chef/tissue/personal slave will also help. Ergo, blog. I don’t expect anyone else will read this, but I think it’ll be nice to look back and remember what life was like during my precious time off work.
And it really is precious. I just have to remind myself of that a lot. Like when Mr 2 insists on closing my laptop lid and I find myself fighting over my “toy.” MUMMY WAS USING IT FIRST!! Or when I’m chasing him around the house trying to change his nappy and hoping the poo won’t stain the carpet. Or when I’ve decided there’s no point in changing my soggy jeans because Mr 4 months will just spew on them again.
Some days I find myself googling “Netflix vs Stan” or adding items to online shopping baskets that I know I’ll never check out. And then feeling really guilty because I just wasted half an hour where I should have been playing in the sandpit, or making cardboard cubby houses, or teaching Mr 2 the alphabet in Japanese or whatever good mums do.
Some days I don’t get dressed until the afternoon.
And then there are days like today, where I give myself a break and stare at my gorgeous little spew monster while he’s feeding (AGAIN) and can’t believe how lucky I am. Where I feel SO VERY proud of my little boy (who refers to himself as “Big Boy”) for learning a new word, or sharing a toy with his brother, or just being downright cute.
Better go watch Little Boy suck his toes and try and change Big Boy’s nappy. Wish me luck.