Archive for April, 2010

Head Over Heels

I’m sorry, I don’t seem to have much to post these days, because if I did, it would be Leila This, Leila That, Leila All Over The Place. I’m obsessed and I’m not sure my “audience” would have much patience for this level of obsession. I can’t help it, you see, and there’s a scientific reason why:  I’ve been flattened by a huge lovesplosion. It’s  running down the walls of this house, the air is thick with it, it’s in my eyes and mouth and most of all my heart. It’s making me dizzy and drunk and silly, and practically unable to think about anything but my baby, miss Love Bomb herself.

Don’t look so surprised, Leila. This is all your doing.


Where’s The Baby?

I imagine most mothers have done it: woken up in the night with an urgent “where’s the baby?” accompanied by a frantic patting down of the bedclothes. I do it every single night, convinced that Leila is somewhere in the bed being squashed by her parents. On the nights when she wakes up for a feed, I whisper-shriek “where’s the baby?” even more, having forgotten whether I put her back in her basket or not. For the last two nights, Leila has had a haitus from sleeping through, and has woken up once each night. This is still totally bearable, when I compare it to the first few nights, which were (gorgeous-baby-cuddling aside) hell on a stick. This step back to broken sleep has added a whole new dimension to my antics- I’m pretty sure that last night I plucked Leila from her crib in a panic, convinced she was choking (I think she probably coughed in her sleep- drama queen, moi?). But I may have dreamed it. Another time I did actually dream that I fed her, and asked G whether I’d put her back in her crib.  I was most put out to discover that she hadn’t ever been out of her crib, and I’d just wasted precious sleep dreaming about being awake. Such is the murky night world of the new parent.

One vintage Where’s The Baby moment from recent weeks:

Me (half-asleep, patting G’s face): Where’s the baby?

G (actually asleep, not noticing the face-patting): Ssssh, the baby’s fine

Me: Is she in her crib?

G: No

Me (aghast): No?!!

G (dreamily): She’s not in her crib… she’s nearly in her crib…

Me (bolt upright, wide awake): WHATDOYOUMEANSHE’SNEARLYINHER CRIB?!!!

Checks crib, sees baby sleeping, arms flung above head

Me (annoyed, relieved): She’s in her crib

I suspect I’ll spend the rest of my life waking up asking “where’s the baby?”. I’m grateful that for now, I know exactly where she is, because she’s always by my side. There’ll be a time when she isn’t, and I won’t wake up every morning to this vision:

(Seriously, that is how she greets me every day. What could make a morning sweeter?)

This Is Us

A quick update, as I’ve got important lounging to do and dinner to eat before the final feeding frenzy of the night…

Things are going wonderfully with our little one. I didn’t believe people when they told me it would get easier. But word to new parents: not only does it get easier, it gets quite dramatically easier, before you know it. I’m now at the point where it’s definitely less hard than my job (old job? normal, job?), which, well. My job is mind-drillingly hard at times, but still. Being Leila’s mum is, relatively speaking, a doddle. Perhaps because she is such an absolute angel, and I say that 100% objectively (arf). The child is sleeping through as of last week- a fact I’m trying hard not to boast about, on account of pride, falls etc- spends about half of her waking time smiling, and is simply amazing to watch as she masters a vast array of mad skillz at a quite astonishing (to us) pace. Beats working, that’s all I can say. This girl could not make me any happier, she really couldn’t.

As for her strawberry, as we call her birthmark: the bridge is, I would say, almost built, after which I will start to get over it. I’m past the point where I feel like an alien being is taking over my baby’s face, but still at the point where people’s comments (almost daily) make me feel like crying. Perhaps I’ll have a t-shirt made reading: No I Did Not Drop Her On Her Head. And on the back: Her Birthmark Will Fade, Looks Like You’re Stuck With That Face Though.