Good news! The baby has a tooth.
Maybe two, I’m not entirely sure. All I know is I was attempting to feed him at soft play and, well, ouch (see, I knew they were lying when they said feeding a baby with teeth wasn’t painful). Upon inspection with my finger, there is definitely something hard and tooth-like residing in the lower gum.
Anyway, perhaps that is the explanation for the recent awful nights and – dare I even hope – the end of hourly waking for a while; I am not at my best when I’ve been up all night. I doubt anyone is really. Margaret Thatcher apparently only needed four hours of sleep a night, but she really isn’t my role model. I am not ashamed to say it: I need more than four hours of broken sleep in order to be any kind of semi-decent parent (semi-decent being the maximum I aim for these days). I’m not kidding myself; an eight hour stretch would be fantastic, but is slightly unrealistic. I’d settle for something in between.
This week alone, I have:
*Forgotten to pay for parking and only remembered an hour or so later. I think most people have done this one though, right? Miraculously, the gods must have been smiling on my poor wretched soul and I didn’t get a parking ticket.
*Put my chunky toddler in one of the baby’s size three nappies without realising and gone out, resulting in leakage with no change of clothes available.
With major sleep deprivation comes the inability to think of funny blog posts, or form coherent sentences – so I’ve cheated and asked friends what their best sleep deprived mum moments were. In among the classics (putting things where they shouldn’t be, generally in the fridge or the washing machine, leaving the iron on/keys in door and forgetting things – purses, keys, children… At least I’m normal) were some real gooduns that probably made me laugh a little too hard.
These are some stories that thankfully, weren’t me:
The other day I locked the door with me, my son and the dog outside, all ready for a walk. Then I inexplicably posted all my keys through the letterbox. I had to ring my landlord to come and let me in because my other half works 45 minutes away. I never ever have to post keys either as we are adults who are both trusted with our own keys. Although obviously I shouldn’t be.
I spent ages trying to scrub a stain off my carpet, only to realise when it projected on to my hand that it was a spot of sunlight….It looked a lot worse than it ever did to begin with.
My baby has nappy free time every night after dinner… Well tonight he decided to cover us both us both in poo!
|You knew there was going to be a poo
picture sooner or later…
In a foolish bid to save my 99p tights, I thought I would soak them in the upstairs sink while running the bath for us both. Well, I completely forgot about the sink until it flooded and the water was pouring out of the downstairs dining room light fitting! The entire bathroom and landing carpet were flooded, the baby was screaming and both of us were still covered in poo. Oh, and the tights ended up in the bin!
This morning I was all ready to leave the house, coat on and everything. I took a yoghurt out of the fridge, peeled the lid back and shook it all over myself, as you might shake a ketchup bottle. I was completely on autopilot and didn’t even need to get a yoghurt out in the first place. So I’m now wearing jeans that are two sizes too big and was 20 mins late (as per).
I left my hand brake off the car and it rolled into a boulder. I was in the shopping centre at the time, there was announcement and everything. I don’t know my registration so was laughing at the tool who left the handbrake off only to find out it was me. My kind friend took this photo so that I could never forget or live it down.
In one week, I locked my car keys in the car (along with my phone, my bag and my child), then I dropped them in the street and left them there for 8 hours until a kindly stranger found them, found which car they opened and left a note for me, and then, minutes after actually having a conversation about what could possibly happen to them next, I left them at the reception at soft play.
I genuinely asked someone in Poundland how much something cost.
And one that is definitely not for the faint hearted…
I can’t believe I’m actually sharing this! Earlier this week I got my second postpartum period so I rushed round to the shop to buy tampax…I came home to sort myself out, popped to the loo, job’s a good’n, right? NO! I could still (urgh) feel Mother Nature in all her glory. I thought it must be super heavy with having been so long coming, best to take the tampon out and use a maternity towel. Tried to pop the tampax out but couldn’t find the string, thought what the hell have you done to me baby… Kept looking, still no joy. At this point I was panicking a bit… Where the bloody hell (pun not intended) has it gone? Thought maybe I’d google it – wrong move! I just convinced myself I was going to die of TSS. I rang my GP and they told me to pop in and the nurse will have a look see. She was sure there was nothing up there but since I insisted there was she would get a doctor (super hot, young, of course) to check it over. All while on my period. He couldn’t find anything. The doctor told me there could be a tiny chance that it may have slipped into my womb as it was still dilated from giving birth, so he referred me to hospital as an emergency. I had to ring my other half at work so he could come home and look after the kids – he had to tell his boss why and everything. So, off to hospital I went for an internal scan. They were 100% certain I was all clear and sent me home. At home after a traumatic day, and my other half tells me there is a tampon out of the wrapper sitting on the bathroom window ledge.