Because, once the Bean has been dispatched to nursery, the pile of discarded pyjamas and feelies has been swiped off the bed, Armageddon-sorry-breakfast has been cleared up and poohmageddon-sorry-the Bean’s nappy has been rinsed, a lonely, undrunk, stone cold cup of tea sits on the dining table.
Always.
Sod’s law
Or, perhaps more aptly, baby’s law. The first nappy that goes in the nappy bucket is a pooey stinker of a mess, destined to fester until the next laundry load. The meal you made lovingly ends up on the floor but the smelly shop-bought goo is gobbled up. The one day we need to be somewhere early, he has a lie-in.
Insanely intense
Intensely happy: watching my newborn son in his cot from my hospital bed, wondering how the hell we made something so perfect, and how he ended up with a Mohawk.
Intensely challenging: Not really liking breastfeeding despite wanting to. Still waking up 4-5 times a night most nights. Trying not to panic when he gets so sick he even vomits up water.
Intensely funny: realising that his number-one, absolute most favourite thing to do is bounce across the bed butt-naked. Ata boy.
Intensely puzzling: how does he manage to eat the skin on the kiwi and like it?!
They go left. They shimmy right. They do a complete 360° on you.
When you think he’s finally sleeping through the night, he goes and has a growth spurt. Yesterday he was obsessed with clementines, today he won’t touch them. Last month ago he could only crawl, now he hurtles through the flat on two feet clutching a swiped umbrella. Pointy end up.
Soggy-slimy-sticky
Soggy tissues Sticky hands Slimy bed sheets Slimy nose Soggy sleeves Sticky toys SOGGY SLIMY STICKY MUMMY!
What else? What word or phrase sums up parenthood for you?
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