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.
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.
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 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?