It’s not even hump day as I write and already I’m feeling depleted. I know it goes with the territory as a new mum but this week has been particularly irksome. Monday didn’t start well as I ended up wading through a pool of water in the early hours to make a feed for Sonny. Every available clean and dirty towel was on the kitchen floor, while the water had to be turned off. Not ideal when you’ve bottles, dishes and laundry baskets brimming with clothes to wash. Luckily, it was an easy fix for the plumber and normal service resumed – until the Tommee Tippee machine threw a strop. Now, this is akin to hell when you’ve a hungry, screaming baby.
Please no, not the Perfect Prep!
Thankfully, hubby wasn’t too far away. “What do I do?!” I wail, having depended on this magic machine for four months. “Try turning it off,” he offers. I do this, seems to work for most things, and hallelujah – it does the trick. However, it’s still playing up. I call the Tommee Tippee helpline and the female voice tells me to shake the machine. Odd, but okay. I do shake it, and enjoy the feeling it gives me and refrain from hurling it across the room. Sadly, it’s still not working properly so I’m going to have to read the bloody instructions on the pack to make it myself, aren’t I? No way. I call again. The helpful and understanding lady agrees to send me out a new one, convinced I’m not trying to wangle a freebie. Sonny is gurning in the background, that must have done it.
Money’s too tight to mention.
They say bad things happens in threes. I also got a bill asking for money I don’t have. The only money I have goes on baby stuff, coffee and wine. So, you can join an orderly queue.
It’s not all bad…
I’m feeling a little better now I’ve that got the above off my chest. and there’s been lots of adorable moments with my little one to savour. Like when Sonny shrieks with glee when he sees me, or puts his tiny little hands around my neck while I jiggle him about. I turn to a sentimental blob of jelly when I watch my hubby use Sonny as a human weight while doing squats. Sonny loves it, grinning widely at me as I sit on the sofa, typing this. It’s as if to say, “Daddy is so much cooler than you mummy.” He’d be right. I still don’t feel like myself, whatever that is. I don’t even know that girl, the one I was before Sonny. My life before him doesn’t seem to matter, what does is the present and the future. My sister says I am a lot more “present” since Sonny came along. That’s a lovely thing. I’ve spent so much of my life never really being in the moment, always in my head, ruminating, analysing, fretting. In this age, where people live their lives on social media, being in the present is everything. It makes you grateful, and thankful for everything and everyone in your life.
Right, that felt like a therapy session. Is it wrong to have a glass of wine?!