As I was eating my lunch of a fun size Crunchie today, I wondered something; instead of (trying) to write these blogs, maybe I should be asleep. If I have the time to write then I have the time for a nap which is probably what most sensible people would do. My friend said to me the other day “Your’e not one of those twats that tries to stay awake and do things while the baby is asleep are you?”. Yes, I think I am. However, I'm finding it good for me to try and write something whenever I can. I obviously have very limited time for myself at the moment and this blog is one thing that I can just about still do. Also, I’ve had some very nice messages from friends (and people I don’t know) in response to my recent posts which I’ve found incredibly supportive at such a strange time. So, thanks to anyone that’s sent me a note via text, facebook or email, I really appreciate it and its made me feel far less lonely/insane.
I also appreciate all the cards and gifts that we have received during the last few weeks. We really are very lucky to have such thoughtful friends and relations. The problem continues to be lack of space at home so I have had to try and find some nice storage for all the baby clothes that we were bought which are still to big to be worn. After a sniff around the internet I found this lovely metal trunk which is perfect for storing things, and very useful amongst all the chaos to know where the next size of clothes can be found.
Trunk from Toast, tiny Ugg boots sent from Auntie Pam in Sydney. Thanks Auntie Pam! xx
As well as a new metal trunk, I also have a new nickname. They call me ‘The Sow. And when I say 'they', I mean me. It’s not particularly flattering but that pretty much sums me up at the moment. God knows how I’m producing anything worth consuming at the moment considering my current diet. I appear to be surviving on burnt pizzas, Nescafe and Fun Size Cadbury Favorites. But it just goes to show how amazing a 37 year old body can be. It also transpires that tiny babies bodies are pretty amazing too. Apparently we have been experiencing a 6 week growth spurt over the last few days. So while I was concerned that perhaps I didn’t know the baby as well as I thought I did since his behaviour changed significantly over the last day or so, he was actually going though a spurt! Apparently they only last a day or so which is good as the insatiable appetite and unwillingness to sleep during the day was a bit intense. During these spurts they can apparently grow 1cm overnight! If a baby continued to grow at the rate he does in his first year, by the time he reached adulthood, he would be as tall as Nelson’s Column. But what I think is more amazing is that today, the spurt seems to have subsided just as good old "What to Expect . . . " said it would. Yay! A 2 day spurt is about as much as I could handle.
Progress was also made today in the battle against grubbiness. I realised I was less Yummy Mummy and more Scummy Mummy due to the minimal time I have been spending on my personal appearance of late. I think I've been washing my hair with Johnson's Baby wash for the last 2 weeks (not even the baby shampoo) so today I could stand no more. I managed to successfully have a shower without the Wig being here and without it being cut short due to wimpering emitting from the moses basket. I devised a plan using a decoy (one of the baby's new toys) lodged on the shelf outside the bathroom door which seemed to keep baby amused for a good 10 minutes while he sat in the bouncer at the bathroom doorway. Hopefully he will not recall the trauma of seeing me in the shower but at least I could keep my beady eye on him. I think I'm slowly getting the hang of things, bright items placed around the flat are my ticket to a quiet life and clean hair.
We also went out again this afternoon. I've got a real taste for freedom now! We only went as far as the post box and the coffee shop but its the thought that counts. And as an extra bonus we only encountered one unsavoury on our travels. Luckily this one was not an aggressive / threatening type but just a bit drunk and dirty. He was a young lager can swilling chap in a wheelchair, clearly down on his luck (I think this is the PC way to say possibly alcoholic with no fixed abode / tramp) I knew as I walked up the pavement and he stopped that there was going to be some sort of exchange of words between us. I seem to attract these sort of people unfortunately. He very kindly offered to help me up my stairs with the pram although how he thought he was going to do this whilst in his chair was beyond me and then he told me he was a knitter of baby clothes if I was interested. Why me. . . ? Tomorrow if I go out, baby wears his TB Protective cover and I wear my invisibility cloak.