I might just be addicted to him.
Sleeping! Not a common occurance in these parts lately.
Don’t you wish you lived in Tasmania too? Looky what we found in the dining room! Aside from the shoddy building.
What I spend all day doing and seeing. Yes, that is baby vomit on my leg.
I popped Isaac into the washing basket while I folded the clothes. Amy promptly decided that she needed a washing basket too.
Around 4am, Isaac starts to whimper and whinge. Nothing unusual there, it’s normally his second or third feed of the night, with bedtime being anywhere between 10pm and midnight. I roll over, bleary eyed and stick my little finger in his mouth, all the while cursing whatever makes him hate the dummy so bad, but also loving it a little too.
I wait until I can feel him sucking and praying to all that is good and holy, I lay there on my side, eyes closed and start to doze back off to sleep. Unfortunately, that isn’t what Isaac has in mind, because dammit woman, don’t you know that I am not getting any milk from this here finger?
I crack open my eyes again and sit up to grab the extra pillows kept at the end of the bed. This is typically where I disturb any mice partying on my bedroom floor and they scatter. I hope they run right into the traps I have laid, but I’m not hopeful. I unwrap the small grumbling one and rearrange us sitting up on the pillows. Someone doesn’t like feeding laying down, even though it would be so much more civilised for us both.
He looks at me as I struggle with my t-shirt. Finally pulling the hem out from under my bum, I manage to get it pulled up enough to free my nipple. It’s here that you can see his eyes light up as he realises that yes! there are BOOBS! all for him! He flails his little arms, control isn’t yet his strong point. Still half asleep, I can’t help but smile when our eyes meet and he smiles his biggest grin; right before going back to the frantic ducking while trying to magically will my nipple into his mouth. Rooting like a carnival clown, I finally manage to get him latched and he breathes a big deep sigh before going boneless in my arms. He grumbles a little as the milk is slow to let down, then settles into sleep, his eyes closing.
I snuggle down into my doona and rest my head on the mounds of pillows behind it. If I’m being forced to feed sitting up, the least I am going to do is use enough pillows to be completely comfortable. Light seeps in through the open bedroom door as I turn my head and rest.
Inevitably, I will wake up two hours later with a stiff neck, Isaac still snuggled into the crook of my arm and a nipple that looks like it was left in the bathtub for too long. Somewhere in there my other breast has leaked, leaving me to sleep in a puddle of my own milk. This is where my morning starts, as I try and put Isaac down beside me. Unfortunately, having savoured two hours of snuggling with Mummy, he doesn’t want to. And besides, it’s been a whole TWO HOURS since the start of his last feed, don’t I know that he needs the other breast RIGHT NOW?
I put him down anyway, fussing [lots] as I make my way outside to pee. It’s getting colder now and my breath makes little white puffs in the air. Dawn is breaking and I glance briefly at the sunrise. I *should* go and grab my camera and photograph it. Should is quickly changed to can’t, as Isaacs fussing is getting louder. I come back inside, have a drink, check Amy and the mouse traps [and if the fire is going, hold a mouse cremation for any caught mice]. I’m moving rather too fast for 6am and not enough sleep. I grab a nappy and wipes as I head in to deal with Isaac’s bum.
Ten minutes later, Isaac is back on my boob, the lesser of the soggy nipples clamped firmly in his mouth. Me? I’m willing him to fall back asleep [for the love of GOD] because dude, don’t you know your sister is going to be awake in a little while and I am not ready to be awake for real yet?
He gets laid down, milky sweet and dozy and I let him suck on my little finger. He might pass back out, or he will suck on my finger quietly for the next 30 minutes, allowing me to doze a little more. Or, he won’t. Either way, I don’t exactly have a choice in the matter.
Later, Amy will wake up and wander into our bedroom for a snuggle, all four of us. Happy. Contented. Even if I am slightly sleepless.
But hell, that’s what the internet is for, right? Hormonal, sleepless blog posts?
Right?
Right.
Nathan had just gotten out of the shower.
Amy: ‘Daddy! Clean up da house Daddy!’
Nat: ‘You clean up the house Amy’
Amy: ‘Ow! I can’t. Amy’s back hurts.’
She then proceeded to place one hand on the small of her back and go ‘ooooooooh, backs hurt.’ while wandering around (bouncing off the walls).
Methinks she has been spending too much time with Uncle David.
You remember my echidna? Well, she decided to move in. Under my house to be precise.
And then, a male echidna (he is bigger than the first one, so we are assuming he is a boy) has decided to move in too. He is living under the house as well.
So on the west side, I have a boy. On the east side, I have a girl. It’s destined to be love, right?
DUDE. I have ECHIDNAS. Living UNDER MY HOUSE. How cool is that?
Until they dig out the foundations, or have babies, or piss the dog off so her head explodes.
Echidnas. Under my house. Oh dear.
Just a little more advice for new mothers. Also, this bit serves as a TMI warning for my few male readers.
Unlike what ‘they’ say, even if you are exclusively breastfeeding, it is entirely possible to get your period back shortly after you give birth. Look at me, two kids, both exclusively breastfed. I got my period 7 weeks post partum with Amy and this time around my period arrived at almost 5 weeks post partum, complete with period pain and PMS.
(Sorry Nathan, obviously last week you weren’t being a horrible partner from hell, I was just being a bitch. You may have been correct when you said that me bursting into tears over nothing was hormones, you simply made the mistake of saying it where I could hear it. Welcome back to the world of PMS and tiptoeing.)
Not fucking fair.
Your first period post partum is not fun. It is heavy and clotty and crampy and HEAVY. And you know what is worse? If you haven’t yet had your 6 week check, you are stuck using fucking pads still. I swear, I’ve gone through more pads and underwear than I did in the first 2 days after Isaac was born. And considering today is day 5 of heavy bleeding, I think I can safely say that it will last longer than a normal period too.
Fuck it.
