Now that she is proficient in the crawling department. Be still my heart. She is trying to pull up on everything. Was it not just yesterday that you just wanted to lay in my arms and sleep?
Why does the first year have to go at super speed?
Don’t get me wrong I love watching her grow. It’s amazing to me. But please slow it down just a bit?
A couple of days ago a friend was in a bind. He needed someone to watch his dog for a few hours. Of course I didn’t mind. The wee miss had met Lupin many times, and loved him.
He was always very patient with her. She does have a death grip, that could rival a pitt bull. Here are a few pictures of the cuteness
I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but I’m glad it is coming to a close. It was a stressful, and loooong ass day.
My first official Mothers day was filled with overwhelming emotions. A number of melt downs from the wee one. And the plethora of rude obnoxious fellow humans.
As what seems the norm lately with the wee tater tot. We were up at the crack of stupid o’clock of the morning. Which is in non parent time 5:30. I don’t know if it’s the two bottom teeth pushing through. Or the wonderful early rising sun. But it’s killing me. I did try to no avail to cajole her back to the land of nod. So up we got, I fixed myself a brew. As she proceeded to empty the toy box. By 8 she was going downhill fast. A nap was desperately in order. I prayed that it wouldn’t be one of her famous twenty minute power naps. I did get an hour and a half out of her
Now to get us both ready for our mothers day tea. That went pretty well, but she swirled downhill. Quick throw everything in the bag and move move move. Before getting out of the house becomes impossible. Now we didn’t have to meet the other moms for an hour and a half. This is my life with my spirited child. We are NEVER late for anything. I thought for sure a nap as we rolled. Nope. And I knew that once we were rolling with the others. No way she would. Why would she, she might miss out on something extremely important.
The tea was nice, cute little finger sandwiches. So many mommas and wee ones. She did pretty well, but I knew it wasn’t going to last long. I was right.
Arrggg. Ok I’m going to stop bitching about how hard it was. Because really everyday is hard. But in the next breath, as I sit here in the glow of the tv. With the wee ones steady breathing next to me. My heart is full, more full then I’ve ever imagined. This tiny little being can make me want to pull my hair out. But I take a deep breath, turn back. And that perfect face is smiling back at me. Arm out stretched. And all is good the bad and hard disappear.
It’s not my child that should be thanking me on this day. It is I who should be thanking her. After all I’m a mother because of her.
But I really could use a massage
I’m amazed how many people actually thought I would tattoo my child. The other night, my best friend had an appointment with Marky. She was getting her other sons name done on her wrist.
And I thought it would be a riot to make it look like we were going to tattoo the wee one. Of course Marky was all for it, because he has a twisted mind like me.
So this photo was the out come. I love the way she is looking at him. As if to say. Yup I’m ready, let’s do this. She didn’t even pull away or anything.
But I’m still holding strong that she won’t want any. Or at least hold out for as long as I did before I started.
After we were mad we didn’t draw a heart that said “mom” for an after photo. That would throw everyone for more of a loop.
I posted it to Facebook. And was amazed at the comments. People really thought I would let anyone mark that perfect skin. And no way in hell Marky would do it any way.
Silly people. But fuck was it funny
These last few days I’ve been hunkered down, dealing with a nasty virus. It was awful.
I’m thankful that she fared better than me. Another reason to love breast feeding. She gained antibodies to fend off the worse of it. Mind you my milk has suffered a bit do to the lack of eating. And the lovely few pounds I had gained back. Sigh were flushed down the toilet.
It really was the hardest few days. I’ve never looked more forward to bedtime in all my life. At least then I could snuggle with her. Roll her over to feed and still somewhat sleep. Mind you that is all I wanted to do. Curl in a ball and sleep.
When you are a single mum, there are no sick days. Somehow you have to find a way to push through. I don’t know how I did it. I did feel like a bad mum. I couldn’t play with her as much as I should have. It was painful to pick her up.
There was no lack of of me trying to find someone to come and give me a hand. But everyone works, or has their own wee ones. And I didn’t want them to get sick.
I was thankful for my local restaurant. The manager brought me toast the last few mornings. Good peeps!
But I could have killed for someone just to come over for an hour. Entertain her so I could curl up on the couch and wallow.
Does it get easier?
What ways to you find to cope?
Here we go again. We went for our 6 month check up last week. And once again I’m getting comments about her weight. And was told to try to not over feed her. Yup that’s what I’m doing, fattening her up to join Hansel and Gretel at the ginger bread house.
First, you can’t over feed a breastfed child. She eats when she wants to eat. I could offer her the boob all day, and she will only take it when she wants. And yes she is starting solids. But with me doing the baby led, once again she eats what and how much she wants.
Second, she is much more mobile. So really she would weigh a whole lot more if she wasn’t.
It just angers me to no end. She is a happy healthy 18.2lb little girl. With beautiful chubby cheeks. And the cutest rolls ever. And there is no need to start to give my wee girl body image issues this early.
This world is so worried about obesity that they are starting to manifest it on babies. Girls have a hard enough time this day and age. I want her to grow up happy with who she is and with how she looks. And if a doctor ever says to her when she is really old enough to understand. I’ll punch them out.
Funny how a movie from the early 90’s can still produce one liners. For some reason, myself and one of my friends say this to her. And funny enough it does make her stop, even for a moment. As if to ask, why are you telling me not to cry. I want to damn it and I will.
Last week was a hum dinger. She was going through a rough teething period. The worst yet.