BOOM! She’s One.

And just where do the days go? The months? The year? The entire year! It’s gone.

Luca is about to turn one. I can’t believe it. One minute I was a lost deer in a fog of headlights not knowing what on earth to do with a newborn and nek minute… BOOM! She One!

So much change and growing has been happening. With both Luca and myself. I’ve struggled to keep up with everything. Especially this writing thing.

With all this growing and learning I’m finding it hard to write about the past. To go back and remember what it was like at the very beginning. I had planned to write so much more. More about breast feeding, about her hip dysplasia and that heartbreaking brace we had to put on her. But there’s been so much development I can’t get on top of anything. All my jobs are only half done. If I do a load of washing it sits in the basket for days until I put it away.

 

I’ve been back at work for a while now. My mat leave all run out. That was a sad week. A real reality check. A big slap in the face that my baby was no longer a newborn and I had to snap myself out of the newborn storm and get back into reality. That sucked.
Some weeks I work 1 day, other weeks I work 4.

4 days work is way too much for me.

3 is bad.

2 is perfect and 1, well 1 is good.

I take my hat off to those full time working mums out there. My house turns into a dump when I work 3 or more days a week. Nothing gets done, Lucas food stays spluttered on the walls all week, we eat meals outta the freezer and I don’t get to spend quality time with my baby, which makes me sad.

I like working between 1-2 days a week. That’s my balance.

Luca is crawling, nearly walking. She’s got teeth. She repeatedly whispers “Dadda” in my ear all day long (which of course plays on my insecurities. ‘Does she love him more?’ ‘Why doesn’t she say my name damn it. I’m with her all day long, slaving and loving over her).

She’s everywhere and in everything. I leave her in the teepee only to  find her in the pantry. Leave her in the wardrobe, find her in the bathroom playing with the toilet seat. It feels like I have even less time now. Boss baby sleeps less during the day and when awake, demands entertainment. I’m her living, breathing Wiggle. I sing and dance and speak stupidly to her all day. I pop out of hidey holes and contort and climb under tables just for her pure amusement. My face constantly resembles one of those stupidly frustrating clowns with the ball mouth thingy you see at the show. But there’s so much pleasure in doing it. Just to hear her giggle is so rewarding. So I keep being a dickhead.

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I haven’t posted in awhile cause I just can’t finish typing an entire post. I’ve had one prepped for months about the overwhelming love, gifts, cards and kind words we received from everyone when we first ‘had’ her…  but I just couldn’t find the time to sit in peace and edit it. I feel like it’s too historical to post now. So I’m banging out this one.

Time has just gotten away from me and when I have a spare minute these days I’d rather just flop on the couch for a sec, stare at the wall and drool a little bit…or create shopping carts online that I never commit too.

That newborn feeling is lost to the past now. History. So much so, I’ve forgotten just how intense I found it and feelings of wanting another are lurking. Just kidding. One is enough right now.

She bit my nipple last week. More than once and very hard.  It was enough to remind me of the bodily sacrifices I endure creating human… and I’m not ready for more bodily harm just yet.

My stomach still resembles a thick packet of crepe paper no matter how much pilates I do… that’s a lie. I don’t do that much pilates. I’m too busy staring at the wall drooling for that. I keep telling myself ‘One day I’ll be fit again’ but deep down I know that’s a lie too.

 

I’m cooking. ALL the time. All day, everyday. Cook, cook, cook.  All I do is cook for her, pack it away into tiny little portion sized tupperwares and freeze it. I feed her, then clean her feed up off the floor, then I play with her, walk her, sing to her, beach her, put her down for naps, tidy the house, do the washing and then repeat it all again until the next sleep cycle. Its full on groundhog day. But I strangely like it. Its comforting in a way. She’ll change things  up every now and then by throwing in a new trick, nipple bite or tantrum just to spice things up a bit, but mainly it’s all just food related and counting down to her next nap so I can clean up the food related stuff and prepare for the next round.

She eats better than us.

For her dinner tonight it’s red lentil dahl with yoghurt and a sprinkling of fresh coriander followed by organic stewed, cinnamon apples and for us, well  I’m cooking a braised bit of nothing and serving it with a side of not much else. Yummo!

 

Anyway, thanks for reading me. It’s nice to finally have posted again… regardless of who reads it… or not. It feels good to be sitting vertically on the couch typing rather than horizontally passing out.