It’s actually a miracle I managed to do anything productive this week when I’ve had to keep one eye firmly on Jude.
With Dan and I both being Key Workers it’s been a bit of a juggle. His work have kindly said he can work from home when I’m on shift, but as you can imagine it’s difficult to get much done with a bored 3 year old knocking about the house. Similarly when I’m trying to do anything at home for Sitting Rooms of Culture - it’s hard to concentrate.
The child has become feral, like a caged mowgli, one day this week he sunk to a whole new level of rank.
So I was sat there with a brew, trying to get a bit of work done in the sun – out runs Jude.
Completely naked.
He stands on the edge of the decking and proceeds to urinate into a mud hole he likes to play in. I can see exactly where his tiny disgusting mind is going - I’m gonna wee here and get it nice and wet to splash around in with my trains.
Absolute grotter.
So I try to explain that bodily fluids are not an acceptable liquid to be playing with your toys in.
To which he storms off in a huff muttering “well daddy lets me do whatever I want”
I sincerely hope that whilst I’m at work the lads aren’t at home rolling around in piss.
I know Dan has issues with discipline, but that’s a bit far love.
Dan keeps asking if I fancy a second -although tempting I think that story proves Jude is more than enough for now.
It’s babies galore around me at the minute. Some of my closest mates and family have popped out a grand total of FIVE new humans this week!!!
Welcome to the absolute madness Bobby, Jools, Jacob, Finnlay and Nuala.
So weird not being able to go give any of them a cuddle, I’m usually one of the first ones round. I really feel for all the grandparents and close family who are itching for time with their newest members. One of my Mum’s best mate‘s is in that boat, Shirley‘s first moments with her first grandchild through a window. I wonder how many people have had these moments tainted by COVID 19?
I’ve got loads more friends/family members that are preggo. What has been difficult is watching the impact this virus has had on some of their experiences, it has stolen moments they will never get back, added anxiety to an already stressful time. They have all coped so incredibly despite all the added challenges.
It’s amazing that even though life seems to have stood still these past couple of months – it really does go on.
These babies have brought light during dark times, proving the resilience of humanity, it really is an amazing gift.
Has it made me broody?
Maybe slightly.
My main motivation is that I don’t want Jude to be an only child. When I think of a life without my sister, it feels unimaginable, she is part of me.
Do I want to deny my son the opportunity of that relationship?
But there’s no guarantees that they will have the same bond that Aimee and I have, many siblings would happily maim each other, I can’t be arsed with that.
There’s also the risk that you’ll pop out one that’s a a bit angsty. Although Jude is part caveman - he’s actually really well behaved and quite funny.
Do I want to challenge the status quo?
Now we’re all well aware of the great things about kids. I’m actually convinced child rearing is the biggest world wide conspiracy since Santa Claus.
You get told things like:
“it’s life changing”
“it’s the making of you”
“there’s no feeling like being a parent”
“it’s so magical”
“enjoy them whilst they’re young, you blink and they’re off to uni”
There’s little jokes about making sure you get your shut eye in before the babe arrives – they don’t say you’ll be so sleep deprived that you become borderline unhinged. It’s like some form of torture in the first few months – longer for some unfortunate souls.
I don’t know if you can class it as some sort of war crime but we should really look into that. I obviously have experience of doing night shifts in A&E, some nights we wouldn’t get a break so you would literally be up overnight.
Newborns are worse.
Just as you are about to drift off to sleep, they have some weird radar that detects it, and they scream like an injured seal until you grace them with your presence.
That’s the other issue with newborns – the lack of communication. I wonder if Jude subliminally felt my frustration and stepped up - cause his speech has been amazing from a young age. Obviously he didn’t come out chatting though, that would be both incredible and horrifying. However it would have made life a lot easier in the early days.
So as we know basically a fresh baby’s only form of communication is to either cry or not cry. Sometimes they do different cries and after a while you become like this weird horse whisperer and can differentiate a bit of wind to I’ve just bit myself and am confused as to why it now hurts. A hard lesson for anyone to learn, the biting and the Horse whisperer skills.
You go through a long phase of trying absolutely everything you can think of – nappy? Milk? Tired? Wind? Wants a cuddle? Poonami?
You invent weird techniques like walking 10 miles with them in the pram, or holding them in a way that resembles a wrestling move and rocking them, putting on “white noise” which is the sound of a hoover all in the name of sleep.
Really fun times.
There’s no feeling like being a parent – what they don’t say is you’ll probably feel and look like like you’ve been ran over by by a train for the first few weeks. After my section any type of movement hurt – that included basic functions like coughing or laughing. The added gift of haemorrhoids from pregnancy and labour is a bonus, along with the massive, painful, leaking and at times bleeding boobs.
Like they say – magical.
The only thing vaguely magical about that time for me was resembling Hagrid in a dressing gown for 2 months.
Your hormones are on another level, and anxiety is a whole different ball game postpartum.
I was definitely irrational at times.
I remember almost walking out on Dan just because he hadn’t offered to help me carry Jude to the car.
It’s such an overwhelming time as a new mum, and it isn’t helped by the pressure you have for fear of being judged as a bad one. Luckily my family and friends were amazing, not at all pushy - just helped me out when I needed it.
There are so many “experts” these days who think they are the oracle when it comes to parenting, it’s confusing and unhelpful. Now I don’t mean healthcare professionals like health visitors etc – I mean social media supermums.
So I’ve been judged before because I had a section – there is an assumption that you were “too posh to push”.
Unfortunately for me after 3 days of labour, he was too tired to for me to push, and we were both in life threatening danger.
So they knocked me out, and cut him out.
Not quite sure how that’s posh, not that I even needed to justify myself.
The list goes on - breastfeeding vs formula, baby led vs traditional weaning, baby led discipline vs actual parenting.
All ways for women to beat each other round the head and make themselves feel like the best mum.
It’s exhausting, and it’s damaging.
As long as people aren’t harming their kids, why would it be an issue how others decide to raise their children?
It has always baffled me, unless people are asking for advice there’s no need to ram your beliefs down people’s throats. When delivered without invitation it becomes an attack. Or at least that’s how it feels.
So I’ve shelved the second child conversation for now.
Maybe next year that weird hormone will have kicked in where you develop amnesia to forget the horror of last time?
Until then I’m going to enjoy this time with our Jude, and with these newest additions from a socially acceptable distance.