Monday, 14 May 2018

8 months: We've had more drama than a Hollyoaks omnibus


Just when you think you've got your shit together with parenting, life likes to remind you that you are wrong and you never will. I've managed 8 months with a baby and clearly I've got too cocky because the past few weeks have been nothing short of disastrous.

To begin with, I forgot how to use stairs and my legs melted. This lead to me and River tumbling down the stairs and into the abyss. I lay in a heap at the bottom weeping at my broken toe while Jason and River (unscathed) got on the banter bus and larked about like it never happened. Only a broken toe? You weren't there, man. It was traumatic. Also, the struggle of squeezing a swollen purple lollypop into a converse trainer and then looking after a baby every day ain't no treat. I had to become an all weather flip flop wearer who has neither the time nor desire to maintain nail polish. It's a sad look. River was absolutely fine and I was a complete mess.

Secondly, Rivers career as a restaurant critic started with a bang after a cucumber incident left him gagging and spluttering with both mine and Jason's fingers down his throat to retrieve that little green bastard (if you're wondering, it was 1 out of 5 stars. He would not recommend.) I swear to god, his eating skills are better than mine when we're at home, but the second you give him food in a public place he shows me RIGHT up. Oh, food? Are people looking? I'd better act like this is my very first food experience to make you feel disgustingly insecure about your capabilities as a parent. Pass me some cucumber which I eat pretty much every day. Pass it to me and watch me at work, Mum
Well played, Riv. You broke me. Again, River was absolutely fine and I was a complete mess.

In addition to all that, River has been watching YouTube compilations of Tom Daleys olympic highlights and has felt so inspired that he decided 4am (when I had fallen asleep feeding him) was his time to shine. He went off the edge of the bed like he was making a break for freedom and the clunk of him hitting the floor woke both Jason and I up. I was obviously a very calm and collected mother who dealt with the incident impeccably... I screamed and went straight into a panic attack while Jason scooped River up and comforted him. Jason was an absolute GLOATER because I had always refused to lie River in-between us, scared that Jason would squash him into flat Eric. Turns out, I WAS THE DANGER and now he's never allowed in the bed again, unless it's in the morning to watch Fireman Sam absolutely rinse government resources to save a fucking cat from a 7ft high shed roof. The PontyPandy fire department are an absolute shambles. But, I digress. Babies falling from beds is a pretty common thing, I'm told. But that fact doesn't make you shit your knicks any less when it happens to yours. Yet again, River was absolutely fine and I was a complete mess.

In amongst these dramatic events, River has mastered crawling and pulling himself up on any nearby furniture, legs, dogs etc which means I now live my life as an eagle watching over the land. It also means we don't have to walk the dog as much and we can scroll through Instagram for longer periods of time while Riv entertains himself. Soaking in every minute of our baby has become more of an intermittent affair for us. Jason invited River to go away and return to him when he could walk. Always have a goal, apparently. 

More recently, as the emotional scars and skanked up toe have started to heal, Jason and I had a night on our own without River. He went and had a sleepover at his nans so that we could stuff our faces with beige foods and cider and fall asleep at 11pm. Probably wasn't the mad night out people imagine when they get time off from the kids. But sausage rolls, my boyfriend and Netflix are an absolute dream combo to me so shut your stupid mouth. Don't get me wrong, I was itching to see River from the second I woke up, but I appreciated having actual me time. Not the pretend "me time" that's spent folding washing while the baby sleeps. It's taken me this long to have a night away from him and I'm glad I only did it when I was ready. Turns out, he doesn't seem to give a tiny shit; he looked fairly unimpressed when I went to pick him up. Too cool to kiss his mum in front of people now, I think.


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