Friday, 20 July 2018

10 months: Teeth and two veg

So it's acceptable to complain about it now, isn't it? The weather has been frying us for the last couple of weeks and I am so sick of it. I don't know about you, but when I'm a hot, uncomfortable mess with a constant sheen of sweat across my face and ass, the last thing I want is for my tit to be bitten off by a child who now has seven teeth. YES, SEVEN. But that's exactly what I've got. River thinks it's the most hilarious game in the world to get all the milk he wants and then thank me for the beautiful liquid gold by chomping on me. The situation isn't helped by Jason - who responds to my screams of pain by laughing, applauding and egging Riv on from the other side of the room. The breastaurant used to be a well respected establishment of fine dining and now it seems like it's been dragged down by their behaviour to nothing more than a lairy lads beer garden. My nipples look like they've been attacked by mice and I would show you a picture but it might cross the line of oversharing, just take my word for it.
The hot weather has also slightly altered Riv's 12-hours-a-night sleeping schedule. It's now a wide-awake-til-10-so-I-ruin-Love-Island-for-my-parents-and-then-refuse-to-sleep-anywhere-but-next-to-my-mum sleeping schedule. I DO feel sorry for the guy. He’s been stripped to just sleeping in a nappy every night and even that hasn't made it comfortable for him. I have to feel a bit worse for Jason, though; who has been forced to sleep in the space between our bed and the wall (or The Chokey as I call it) because I'm so scared that he's going to roll and squash Riv in the bed. It's a sorry state to see him nestled in his hole. It looks even more pitiful when he squeezes the dog in there with him and they both look like they’re gasping for air because they’re so compact. He jokes that he’s only doing it for the glory of being a martyr, but he 100 percent gets a shit nights sleep so that me and River can be comfortable and that’s a top dad right there. 

We're at 10 months now and I'm coping well with how fast Riv's growing by refusing to pack away any clothes that have become too small for him and also by forcing him to cuddle me when he's trying to watch Bing and eat his snacks in peace. It's ridiculous to me how fast babies grow. It's also ridiculous that he's inching towards his first birthday and I'm still using "Umm excuse me, I've just had a baby" as an excuse to get out of any type of physical activity/eat shit loads of cake. I am quite literally refusing to believe it and if you can't find me on his birthday, I'll be in a dark corner, crying into his cake and telling everyone that there must be some sort of mistake.
I’ve had his 10 month development review with the health visitor and most of my answers to her questions were “well, yes he’s doing that BUT I DONT WANT HIM TO” Her nervous laugh was heavily indicative of concern for my mental state, but I can’t imagine any mother willing her baby to grow up. I think my own parents are probably still in disbelief that I’m no longer that chunky little bean my mama squeezed out of her 28 years ago. 
River is currently at the na├»ve, cocky stage of learning to walk where he'll fly around the furniture holding on with one hand and think he's cracked it. He can stand still for what seems like an eternity but it's the moving of the feet he's yet to accomplish. I'm not sure why I'm trying to encourage him so much because I'll be a broken woman having to chase him around all day, every day when he eventually walks. Walking is one of those milestones that really separates from the idea of a 'baby'. Once he's walking, he's not such a baby anymore and that idea seems HORRID to me so I should shut my stupid mouth instead of bribing him with the remote control. 

As far as food is concerned, there isn’t a thing he hasn’t loved. River is demolishing three meals a day now as well as snacking in between/stealing food from my plate. This has led to me making some big changes to the foods I choose to eat. I’m now living by the ‘if I wouldn’t want River to eat it, I can’t eat it’ rule and it’s pretty much meant that I’ve eradicated all animal products from my diet, so essentially we’re eating vegan diets. Don’t get me wrong, I could still absolutely murder a 12oz steak or Big Mac any second of the day (currently salivating at the sheer thought of it) but the idea of a dead animal or the titty milk of a cow going into my babys mouth disgusts me more than anything so I can’t be a hypocrite and I can’t have those things.*
Of course, I’ve roped Jason into following suit. The high-fibre diets have really made their mark on our fart situation. We’ve become accustomed to apologising in advance for what’s going to happen so that the other person can brace for impact... GOOD OL’  HEALTHY VEG, EH?! Finding tasty vegan alternatives to my fave foods has made my decision a lot easier and I’ve consumed a lot of Oreos the last few weeks to soften the blow of my dietary sacrifices. Jason sometimes tells me I’ve gone TOO heavy on the Oreos but I tell him, excuse me, I've just had a baby. Get back in The Chokey.

*just because I’m a crazy overthinker when it comes to food, doesn’t mean I’m telling anyone what they should be eating or giving their baby to eat. I am not a nutritionist (although I have seen pretty much every episode of Food Unwrapped, so...) Everyone do your thing. Give your baby a KFC bargain bucket if you want, it's not my problem.

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