4:28am on a Sunday morning, most women my age are just about managing to find the right key that matches the lock in their front door. I on the otherhand am sitting on the couch with exhaustively trying to fit my unrecognizable nipple into my windmilling, apparently hungry infant daughter's mouth hole. And as she spits up a little milky cottage cheesy type crap, I desperately wrestle one handed with the never ending ribbon of blasted wipes! I only bloody wanted one and they just keep coming! I curse at them and bring in my back up... the mouth, as I try to pull just ONE damn wet wipe away from it's obviously very clingy team, I also try to keep movement to a minimum as I really would prefer a sick free boob for one night. Or a sick free night in general.
As most women my age or younger, and some older, are staggering into the house, drunkenly raiding their fridges and forgetting their keys in the salad draw, I am trying to learn the language of baby, to try and work out what my daughter wants from me. She shows me all the signs that she wants to be fed... or are they the signs for needing to be winded? I sit there and struggle for a little while before leaving her to her own devices, sitting her up in my arms, just enough to let any trapped wind up but also within reach of my sore, mammoth sized boob - okay, that's a little exaggerated, but after two children, on and off breast feeding and pumping for two months with my eldest and almost four weeks of successful breast feeding with my youngest... these things on my chest... they aren't the boobs I'm looking for. Yes, I jumped on the Star Wars bandwagon.
Last time I checked, my boobs were small, just a handful, great fun and easy to manage, all of a sudden it's like they've become hormonal teenage girls. Seriously. They're sore, too warm, too cold, not in the mood for this, leak when I see cute babies - not always of the human kind, the only time they're fun now is if I want to use them as water pistols, or if I want to cosplay as a bloody cow. And I used to laugh when my mum told me that I used to call her Moo-Moo, instead of Mama.
Most young adults are up most of the night partying, watching films, playing video games, reading and whatever else young people do nowadays. Me, I play a game I like to call: Change the babies nappy quicker than she can piss all over everything. Yes, babies will strategically plan exactly the right moment in which you have just finished wiping their adorable but also horrifying butt and you have just moved the old nappy and are about to place the nice fresh one down, and their legs and back ends are all up in the air and somehow, boys or girls they manage to turn themselves into a magical geyser and SOMETIMES, if you're really lucky you'll hit the jackpot I like to call The Shit Storm. This is when the baby decides that this would be a good time to finish off a massive shit, but aim it at the one person who decides pretty much every single major and minor life decision they make until they're at least 18 and sometimes older. Oh and sometimes, you win the lottery and get piss and shit simultaneously exploding from one miniature human. Like I said, babies butts - horrifying. So next time you wonder why your folks wouldn't let you do something, or made you wear something daft or cracked out the bowl and scissors and gave you the infamous bowl cut... think "Just how much shit did I cover you miserable sods with?"
I may sound resentful, but I swear to everything, that I'm smiling the biggest right now because no matter how much disgusting stuff I end up covered in, how much my boobs force me into creating breast pads out of nappies (a story for another time), no matter how much sleep I miss, or how dead my left arm is right now... nothing beats looking down and seeing a cheeky little smile that just tells you "hey, mum, I know it's late and all but would you mind just holding me until I fall asleep?"
Because this little human is growing fast and she wont need me to just hold her whilst she falls asleep soon, and although it may be hard, but I'll just treasure it while it lasts because no one knows really what tomorrow will bring and she won't be this little for long.
Not registered?
Create an account