Sleep deprived blogging

Well as I have nothing else to blog about at the moment (and I’m definitely not going to be able to even think about using my sewing machine any time soon) I thought I’d might as well give a little update/ramblings on my new role as a mummy now that we’re 11 weeks in.

I’m still winging it day by day and I’ve no idea whether I’m getting things right or wrong, the only markers being the little man is healthily gaining weight (13lb 14oz last Thursday) and is a happy smiley chappy through the day. We won’t talk about the nights, and I don’t want to hear about people who have babies who sleep through from 6 weeks old (for my own sanity I refuse to believe them in any case).

Looking after Joshua and being totally responsible for him truly is the hardest thing I have ever had to do. As my best pal keeps telling me (and she’s always bloody right!) those first 6 weeks (oh and once you get past those first 6 weeks the goalposts change and it also includes the next 6 weeks!) are like crawling through a long dark tunnel. It’s one hell of a journey and a steep learning curve. I’m lucky in that my mum doesn’t work so has been around to help me out (which has been an absolute god send).  The days at work dealing with what those of us in the comms world deem a sh*t sandwich seem like a doddle in comparison now. A ferocious journalist with a corker of a media enquiry at 3.30pm on a Friday pales in comparison to dealing with a small person at 3.30 am when you’ve already been up twice that night feeding, your eyes are stinging and you feel so tired you feel sick. Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t change it for the world and when you see him smile first thing in the morning, melting your heart it makes it all totally worth it.

I’ve found myself questioning everything I do and doing things I swore I’d never do as a parent (much to the amusement of my besties I’m sure). Take last week for example, I found myself sat in a circle with other sleep deprived mums, frantically bouncing our babies on our laps in a bid to not be the one with the grumpy baby, a large gold sequinned sheet of material in front of us with a lady fully immersing herself into a sing songy world of baby tunes and encouraging us to join in, judge me. I said I’d never go along to these things, but he loved it, (well up until the point he had to wear bunny ears, que a meltdown so I had to wear them) so much so I’m going back next week. I’ll leave my dignity at the door. (Those of you locally it’s called Hartbeeps and rather fittingly the session was called Baby Bells, it’s worth checking out if you’re looking for a sensory based activity).

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