Why do women have the babies? Because we are tougher than tough that’s why.
But besides that I am actually not sure. I think my man is more qualified to do the actual parenting thing because of his calmness in dire situations although that is not always a good thing. (Max runs for the playground… across a road… Dad doesn’t bat an eyelid)
I basically just go about the day as if I know exactly how to parent. I don’t.
I’d be way better at working but the minute I’m away from the kids, this little Trojan bursts through my brain and takes over like ‘oh god I feel like I am missing a limb, I can’t wait to get back to my babies’. I have a conversation with Jake that goes something like, ‘hun I just need to go and do a food shop for an hour to clear my head,’ but the whole time I keep searching for my purse and phone because I feel like I’ve forgotten something. Then my brain fools me into thinking ‘well this sucks, next time we’ll all go’. Even though getting the shopping done with a two year old is practically impossible.
Parenting makes no sense to me. The number one goal of the day is to make it to bed time in one piece because for some reason, every day upon waking you completely forget that ‘bedtime’ is actually the exact opposite of that. It should be called ‘the time between 6pm and midnight when you try to convince a small, drunk adult that he needs to stop drinking, get in the taxi, go home and go bed without even a hint of success’. I mean, my son hits the bottle hard, cries about Thomas being turned off, refuses food, tries to convince me that his bed is the couch and that he ‘had a bath last morning’ (what?) so obviously doesn’t need another one. Its the worst.
My kids think of sleep similarly to how I feel about cleaning the toastie machine – a completely horrible, unnecessary but inevitable part of the day. I practically salivate over my three hours sleep while my littlest baby will only fall asleep under an extensive list of strict conditions; that include the boob being in her mouth regardless of whether or not she is actually feeding. No matter how stealthy I am, if I even think about replacing
my (sorry its all hers) her boobie with her dummy, those beautiful eye balls snap open and the lip drops quicker than I can pretend to be asleep again.
Because we co-sleep, which they tell me is the wrong thing to do and definitely not in the manual, I don’t have one minute a day thinking about anything other that my two little creations. Which would be fine if one didn’t require their sanity- but oh god I love cuddling one or both of those sweaty little heat-packs at night.
And sleep training. agh. You can either – put baby in her own bed and wake up to her 45 times a night for varying reasons, plus an additional 5 because ‘I swear, she just stopped breathing’.
Or sleep next to her, boob in mouth, like a contortionist because she requires complete body contact but your fear of smothering her keeps you awake. Babies heads smell so good though (unless they sleep with dad then they smell like armpit). You’ll still wake up 45 times, but at least you don’t have to get out of bed. Unless of course; she has a full nappy, a burp pain and needs to be upright, has we’d through, or just wants you to be cold. Also, because the 2 year old is in your bed aswell – you have to be real quick settling her/figuring out what she wants otherwise it will be another case of breakfast at 3.40am and a Thomas DVD.
Happy Wednesday Lovers! xx