Look at those precious feet. Super cute right? I am not just saying that because its my baby. Without doubt women reading this are clutching at their ovaries and men are turning in their player cards determined to find “the one” so they can sow their seed. Teeny tiny baby feet have that effect on grown folk.
Jokes. Sorta. Not really.
Right now my mini me is being super impossible She doesn’t want her dad, doesn’t want to be breast feed, doesn’t need a nappy change. She’s not too hot or too cold, she is just right temperature wise. Looking at her eyes they are wide awake and doesn’t look like she will be going to bed anytime soon. We don’t know what she wants after eliminating a whole of host of possible solutions.
One thing is for certain. She wants her mama – me. She just wants to be held? Easy. That stops the crying. Mama has lots to do though – finish up cooking, cleaning up because she likes things just so. Not to mention blogging. As legitimate of an excuse as it is to say, “I have a baby” the time has some what passed for it to be valid excuse – tales of incompetence do not interest people. Routines need to be established so that things can get back to normal.
In other words, our little person who weighs less than 10 kilos will no longer be a dictator. As parents we are going to over throw (coup) and reclaim power. We going to work hard to get a solid routine in place to insure that we can literally GET our LIFE.
Right now I am writing this blog post with bub strapped on to me using a baby harness – something like this but I am dressed in daggy home clothes. Initially bub resists being restricted but I think the realisation that she ain’t going nowhere, the sound of my heartbeat or something eventually calms her down. Her being attached to me means my hands are free to do other things. Baby girl then closes her eyes and sleeps – in protest, I guess.
Being a parent is not of the greatest joys that I have experienced in my life time. At the same damn time it can be incredibly challenging and frustrating. Which got me thinking, how do you know that you have crossed over and are slowly morphing into your parents?
You know you are a parent when:
- You sneak around like a ninja in your own damn house so you don’t make noise and wake the baby.
- Vomit, urine or poo on you or your clothes no longer bothers you.
- You spend ages trying to put them down to sleep as they resist it. They finally go to sleep and you realise you miss them and can’t wait for them to wake up.
- You have to schedule a time for anything and everything. All the things you took for granted e.g. shopping, using the bathroom, taking a shower.
- The sounds of baby farts and poos excite you because it means things are moving.
- A 10 minute uninterrupted shower feels like a spa date!
- You don’t wear white.
- You drop the kids off at day care and drive to work listening to nursery rhymes….and singing along solo!
- When you’re using every ounce of energy to keep your eyes open and keep it together.
Yes, it’s all true and I am probably not selling the parent trap. I have to say though, and it will sounds incredibly cliche but even with all of the above your heart is so full of indescribable love and life now makes sense.
Special shout out and a heartfelt thank you to other new mothers who also contributed to this post.
How did you know you were now a parent?