Saturday, August 24, 2013

How to be mother how to be wife

I used to fancy myself as quite a vivacious, sassy woman. I never even thought about the idea of how to strap a man down because I was too distracted by my confident strides and assuredly walking about town knowing just knowing I was the tits.
Then my vagina popped out a person.
In the process my body scarred, my mind sleep deprived and my ego battered.
I see now how my husband no longer comes home to his ferociously fun and strong woman but to a mother whose face is relieved as she hands him a baby before he's even had a chance to sit down.
I hear now the two concentric circles we talk in when we tell each other about our days. Him and I simultaneously carving out our lives as we talk in separate spheres, angling and savouring the shaded areas where our lives overlap, grappling for the shaded areas to come together into one perfect circle where our new family can live happily ever after.
I taste the chicken that I forgot to season because I can't lose myself into a pot simmering on a stove top without stopping midway to attend to baby.. Or to be honest don't blame the baby...I just plain forgot.
I feel how my husband could and maybe does get his dose of giggly excitement from people in his outside life now that I am more often grizzly mumma than sexy mumma.
That is the most vulnerable feeling of all. That my husband has an outside life and we are just the inner shell of life he comes home to. Right now I love how exciting it is when he comes home, the first family hug after he walks through the door. A daily pause enjoying a moment of completeness. I just hope and pray he will always be excited to see us.
I feel a seedling army attempting to invade our love's immunity, growing things that could potentially destroy a marriage if left unchecked. Insecurity, things unsaid, exhaustion.
And the worst is the irrational fear that family and everything I now devote my life to is impeding his full potential in life. Would he do things differently if it wasn't for me and baby? I know if I asked him this he would be devastated for me even thinking it.
We spent six hours in the car today. A scouting road trip for a rural life we will be embarking upon in a few weeks. Left baby with the grandparents because it would have been a terribly hard 15 hour day for a four month old.
We went to go find a new house for us to live in. I found something more valuable. In the car we joked, we sang, we ate drivethru junk food. Most of all we reconnected with the person we married and not just the person we live with. And I'm glad to report that I still find myself hilariously fun and searingly sassy.

Wednesday, August 14, 2013


Playtime is getting better and better these days. He's awake for longer, talks (well babbles) a lot more and likes to smile and laughs at times. The other night he played a game with my husband instead of going to sleep like he was meant to. Eyes locked on each other, Daddy would stick his on tongue out at Buddyboo and he would copy only reflected with an added cheeky grin. Then he would laugh at himself for being so clever. He did this a few times it was very cute. Makes getting up every hour through the night worth it. Poor thing has terrible eczema and he wakes wanting a scratch or even just a cuddle. Sigh.

Saturday, August 10, 2013

Watch me grow

I love watching him grow.
The signs of his growth are increasing at an accelerating rate. They really do grow so quickly.

I'm filled with bittersweet pride and joy as in the last month I packed away his size 000 and brought out his size 00 clothing. My little Buddha boy is a four month old squeezing into 6-9 month clothing. What a healthy little munchkin. The most amazing thing he has outgrown is a hat that is labelled suitable for 9-24month olds. How could he possibly have such a large head? Larger than a two year olds? Anyone who has met my husband will find it easy to figure out. His head is preposterously large. Many people were visibly afraid for me when I announced my pregnancy.

Buddyboo has also moved on to 'crawler' sized nappies and indeed he started making the appropriate leg kicks on the floor, the seedling starts of a crawl. My husband and I were together when he first started attempting a crawl. It was nice and made me think of how many more firsts we are going to witness in the next years.

He started trying to roll from his stomach to his back this week. I left him on the mat on his tummy so I could pop some toast in the toaster. The next minute I turn around and he was sprawled on his back just off his mat like an overturned beetle legs and arms flailing gently with a quizzical look on his face. Probably wondering how his world view just got switched so swiftly without mummy coming to move him. So cute.

He also seems to have found his voice. His cries are no longer confused lengthy crying sessions but distinct calls and communicative babbling. I swear the little guy thinks he is talking sometimes. Strangely enough he talks the most when prone while I change his nappy. He must think its a bit of a hairdresser's chair...or a shrink's couch. A place he can unload his thoughts and worries while I groom him and tend to his needs. He is a headstrong little boy. Quick to voice his displeasure but so genuine with his smiles.

His sleep has been an issue but he is doing his best and has his star days and off days like anyone. The poor lil boy also has developed bad eczema on his face like his father before him once suffered as a child. It's heartbreaking having to hold him through a terrible night of itching and holding his arms down to prevent scratching just so he can get some sleep. How can I blame the poor sod when I as a full grown adult could barely control myself from scratching an itch during the terrible pregnancy rash (see first post). I now have a house full of discarded jars and bottles of creams, lotions and potions as we work our way though the chemist shelves for something that works. Fingers crossed the current regimen we were put on by the paediatrician this week will work. 

Newborns are a bit pinochio-esque but he is definitely a real little boy now. I still miss him all the time. I miss the him from the gangly little newborn he was, to the Buddyboo of last month, to the Buddyboo of five minutes ago. He is asleep in his cot right now in the same room as me as I type this and I still miss him. The depth of a mothers love is tremendous if not wonderfully obsessive. Oh dear he is going to find me so annoying one day.