I love my boy.
And I’ve begun with that statement so this post doesn’t appear entirely negative/wingey/whiney/winey (mostly winey) etc etc from start to finish.
I NEED MY RIGHT HIP BACK.
And use of my right arm. And in fact the entire right side of my body. Along with the right to wear my hair in something other than a ponytail every once in a while without fear of being scalped.
Yes. I love him. But he is driving me f@*king nuts at the moment.
He has entered the phase of clinginess that I had, up until now, repressed following my daughter’s baby days. He cannot be more than a few inches away from me at any one point day or twatting night, including when he’s sleeping… (or pretending to sleep until any attempt to prize him from my nipples occurs. LOVE it when they do that. No. Really. It’s my total fave.) … and GOD FORBID I LEAVE THE ROOM TO ACTUALLY PISS FOR THE FIRST TIME IN 6 HOURS… Nope. No pissing shall commence without a fairly robust 9-month old sat on my lap throughout. And you can forget wiping. And it’s always a particularly athletic task when you realise a tampon is required part-way through the process…
And as much as I pride myself on my impressive ability to walk several miles pushing an empty pram with one hand and using the other to carry my boy home while he uses my collar bone for teething and my fringe as a handle, I kind of just preferred it when he was still and small and quiet and shit.
I’m just saying I would probably prefer opening the door to the Amazon delivery guy without being charged from behind by a 70cm long human who, whilst angrily yanking at my dressing gown and screaming to be picked up, has yet again exposed wobbly-booby-vagina-bits to the street just as the retired couple across the road are taking their Pekinese for a morning walk.
Don’t get me wrong – I F@*KING LOVE sitting on my wooden dining room floor and being used as a human climbing frame for several hours a day by my son. Obviously it’s right up there with child birth, fanny-waxing and having my labia stamped on by a Doc-Marten-wearing 3-year old… BUT. It would be quite nice to occasionally use a chair… And my iPhone… And cutlery… IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK?!
Clearly yes. As he shows no sign of releasing my fringe any time soon and rice cakes seem to buy me only a few seconds these days. Certainly not long enough for a shower, and f@*k knows what I’ll do if I need a poo before bedtime any day soon…
But until then…
Wine, gin and wine chaps.
Wine, gin and wine.