To celebrate little Dexy hitting the half year milestone a couple of weeks ago I thought I would take a look back on what I have learnt about myself over the past 6 months…
- I am pretty hardcore.
I mean, come on! I popped a baba out of my lady bits and lived to tell the tale! That’s got to be worth some kind of award, right? Women are incredible, sorry guys, but we just are. My hubby even admitted that if the whole giving birth thing had been left up to him then we wouldn’t have our little Dexy right now. I’m also pretty proud of myself for doing a good job with zero fuss and just getting on with the task at hand – quite a big deal for me.
- I CAN multi-task.
So I know it’s supposed to be men that can’t multi-task, but I’ve never been good at it and to be honest I don’t think I ever will. Give me a baby however, and I can brush my teeth whilst showering/having a wee, and breastfeed whilst eating a bowl of muesli.
- I hear voices.
Well, not voices, just scream-cries that don’t actually exist. Once you’ve heard your baby cry a few times a lot of times, you start to think he’s doing it constantly and find yourself throwing down the fish slice mid Masterchef moment and running up the stairs to find your perfect angel baby fast asleep and most likely dreaming about how he has such a mollycoddler of a mother. That sound is forever engrained in my mind.
- I am a liar.
Not a real-life one, just a little white, pretend liar. Having a baby not only turns you in to one, but it also allows you to be exonerated from any blame for being one. Lies usually consist of hamming up the baby’s made up illness to avoid meeting with people as I’m just too bloody tired to take my pyjamas off; or not answering your phone call and blaming it on an unfortunately timed sleeping baby/nappy change/feeding frenzy because again, I’m too tired to be able to string a coherent sentence together. To any of my friends reading this: I’m sorry.
- I can’t stand up for too long.
Babies are bloody heavy y’know! There’s a common misconception that due to their size, those miniature creatures are completely weightless and one could carry them about for hours on end, bouncing them up and down like a tennis ball. Not true. I don’t know if someone is secretly popping dumbbells into Dexter’s socks or something, but that small human is not in any way light. It’s working wonders for my bicep definition though.
- The telly is my friend.
Controversial. I’m only talking sometimes (it’s not like I have a potato for a baby that spends his entire days in front of the box like a baby Jim Royle), but on occasion when you’re all sung out and you’ve run out of tricks to make them laugh, and all you really want is a hot brew, Mr Tumble really can be a lifesaver.
- I’ve never known ‘tired’ until now.
You may have been on a 4-day bender where sleep was restricted to public transport to the next drinking venue and then to work the next day (we’ve all been there), but unless you’ve had a baby that is fully under your care and loves to party all night, then you really don’t know what you’re talking about so don’t even try.
- I pretend that I get dressed every day.
I don’t think I’ve ever actually told this lie (there’s a first), but it’s all in the impression one gives off. Do I really want people to know that it’s 7pm, I am sat in my pyjamas first donned the night before, having not showered or left the house all day, and I smell of sweat and baby ‘stuff’. Exactly.
- I constantly make excuses about the state of my home.
Whenever anyone visits I charge right in with the excuses and apologies about how terrible my home is and how I’ve been so busy with the baby that I haven’t had time to clean and I’m so embarrassed etc. etc. The truth is, I’ve either cleaned the entire house top to bottom but I’m just so poor at cleaning that it looks like a family of 15 dogs have moved in, or I’ve done a quick 10 minute speed clean before you’ve arrived which is how most of my cleaning gets done these days.
- Damp patches are my new uniform.
Damp patches for me are what high heels are for Vicky Beckham, or what a white crop top and midi skirt combo/camel coat is for Kim K. I’ve just got to accept it and work with what I’ve got.
- Showering is a luxury.
Showers are no longer something I take for granted. Unless my other half is home, it’s either a race against the clock to get out before the cry kicks in (usually resulting in unwashed hair and me planning when I can next attempt a hair wash), or a naked version of some annoying cbeebies show; entertaining the baby whilst speed-washing my bits.
- My hair can go for longer without a wash than I previously believed.
See previous point. There are ways to make the barnet look fresh…even on day 5.
- I forever try and convince people that my baby is a happy baby.
He is a happy baby, he just has his ‘difficult’ moments. And those difficult moments tend to be every time he meets one of my friends or someone new. I try to convince them that he is a good baby, even though I can see in their eyes that they don’t believe a word I am saying and they actually think he’s a little shit.
- I get annoyed if my baby doesn’t perform on cue.
I sing Dexter’s praises re his latest achievements; like how he can roll over, or wave back at me etc., only for him to show me up and refuse to perform, leaving people thinking I’m a deluded pushy parent.
- I love cooking and eating healthy for my baby (breastfeeding mama).
But sometimes a Quarter Pounder with Cheese Meal (large) is just what your baby asks for…what can you do?
- I love baby fashion.
More than adult lady fashion. Well, almost.
- Poo talk is a valid topic of conversation. Every day.
Who knew I’d one day be completely willing to participate in, and often instigate graphic poo discussions with my husband? Never has the humble poo and it’s many varying properties been such an important part of every day life. I must add that this is limited to baby poo and baby poo alone. Just saying.
- Everything Dexter does is amazing, even the 563rd time around.
To me that is, perhaps not to everyone else. Myself and Mr B still find it completely amaaazing when Dexter smiles, which he’s been doing since approximately week 4. “Ahh look, he’s smiling!”… “We know, we’ve seen him do it every day for the last five and a half months. Get over it already.” I will never get over that cheeky grin.
- I’m now a morning person. Eurgh.
Any time after 5:30am is now a completely valid and acceptable time for me to pull open the curtains and spring in to action for the day ahead. I hate this about me.
- I tell the hubby that I didn’t have time to do stuff.
I can get away with this as he has seen Dexter on one of his ‘difficult days’ on many occasion and knows that it is nigh-on impossible to get anything done on said days. This is a great tool to have at my disposal on the days when I can’t be arsed to wash up.
- I need my own mummy more than ever.
Becoming a Mummy yourself not only makes you appreciate your own a hell of a lot more, it also means you require her help a lot more too. My Mum is my best friend, and since having Dexter, my rock. I honestly don’t know where I would be without her.
- It’s true when they say you love your baby the most when they are sleeping.
They’re just so angelic and perfect looking; you discuss waking them up to see them again because you just love them so much…but of course you never do.
- A bath-poo is a real thing.
We found out the hard way a couple of weeks ago. You know that moment when your baby is in the bath and a few little bubbles rise to the surface and you giggle together and say how cute it is that he did a little trump in the water? Well that tender moment escalated quickly in to a full-on code brown involving lots of swift movement, disinfectant and bath number 2 for the perpetrator (no pun intended).
- People are always going to have an opinion on everything you do.
I hate to say it, but I am one of the worst when it comes to caring about what people think of me, however this is something I’m seriously working on getting over as it’s really not worth the stress. Having started blogging I have been back and forth in my mind about sharing so much with the world, in particular so many pictures of my son, as there are plenty of people who have a negative opinion on sharing photos of your children on social media, and they are usually more than happy to share those opinions with you and make you feel like shit. You can’t please everyone in this world, so it’s best just to please yourself.
- Your baby learning to crawl may just be the funniest thing ever.
When speaking to anyone else, his action resembles ‘the worm’; to our friends and family, he’s totally dry-humping the floor/bed/Grandma’s chest. So many lols.
- You’ve never known true love until your 6 month old baby willingly gives you a kiss.
How he understands what it means I don’t know, but I do know that he does. His loving, open-mouthed kisses are the sweetest thing (far better than any puppy) and my heart explodes with love every time.
- What happens in front of the camera doesn’t compare to what goes on behind it.
Technology is at the forefront of everything in today’s world, and it can be easy to get caught up in your phone and what you put out to the world. We must remember that things like Instagram only show a snapshot of our lives and we can choose to make that life look however we want it to. Don’t get caught up in other people’s social media identity; I know that my photos are usually something I capture if I remember to, as all the fun and special moments happen the other 99.9% of the time. Sometimes you just have to put down the camera and let life make the memories for you.