So just a bit of background for you...I was, pre baba, slim. And by slim I mean I had just got married and was the smallest I had ever been. Granted this took 8 months of 5 days a week running or boxing but I loved it and whats more I could eat anything I wanted all the time and it made no difference.
Fast forward two years and I am not that size any more. People always say the right things like "what do you expect.. you had a baby" and "you look great..don't worry" but in all of us there is a preference for how we look and much more importantly how we feel.
On nights like tonight at 10.13pm when my almost two year old has only just succumbed to his total exhaustion and I reach for whatever chocolate I can find (last years Christmas tree chocolates did come to the rescue about a week ago) I realise something. It is not only irrelevant to worry about my size it is an arrogance that frankly I do not have time for and I need to get my priorities sorted.
I have a wonderful little human to raise but that same little boy has never needed as much sleep as others. When he was brand new he woke every 2-3 hours for almost the first year. Sometimes we went as far as every 90 minutes. He day time napped..sure..but not in the way others did. He still does daytime naps (and yes I have tried to remove them in the hope that he goes to bed at an a time that is deemed acceptable by any adult I meet) but it makes zero difference...nil, nada, squilch, zero so here I am getting some me time for about 30 mins before crashing out.
We decided never let to let him cry. I would never let an adult cry who I loved half as much as I love Freddie so it made no sense to me to walk away. We always either try to discover and resolve a problem or help him in some way so he can resolve it himself. This, I am aware, is one of the most sensitive areas of modern parenting so I am doing my best not to piss anyone off here. It is different for everyone and this is what was right for us.
When I think about the things that have bothered me most - the exhaustion, the hormones, the recovery, the birth and the 'OMG am I screwing this up' moments I realise that I am my own worst enemy. I care what others think - deeply. I wanted to find parenting easy (ha - idiot) and for my body after the first year or so to be back exactly as it was and why?? Why do I care? Why am I worried? This chocolate fuelled body of mine produced the best and most marvellous little dude I could ever have hoped for. Being on 15 -16 hour shifts a day is hard - no doubt - but would being a size 10 help? NO. Would wearing fewer pairs of supremely comfortable tracksuit bottoms and hoodies help? NO. Would him going to bed earlier help- possibly - but the way I see it life is short and I am going to enjoy every exhausting moment with Freddie so that I know for sure I have made the most of it. What a privilege it is to be his Mummy, to be screamed at, to be hugged and to be loved.
When your baby isn't sleeping try reading 'why your babies sleep matters' it was a great read and exactly what we needed in the first year to get us through. (That and an endless supply of chocolate orange)
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