And by sometimes, I mean most of the time. Sometimes, or most of the time, I feel like the baby enjoys watching me on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Only on the verge, she doesn’t enjoy full blown meltdown. Because meltdown mummy can’t focus on whingeing, she normally disappears into a lockable room, for a moment.
The scale of which a baby will make you sweat, is all determined by the way in which they’ve woken up. Tears guarantees a fairly sweaty day ahead. Smiles and singing, also guarantees plenty of sweat, but you may be slightly more receptive to any shit thrown your way when she was happy at one point today.
Every mealtime fills me with dread. The reaction to a bib would make you think a choke collar was being strapped around the babys neck. Stains on every single item of clothing is a must in baby fashion. That meal, that’s just had time and money spent on, is disgusting, throw it away. And straps, who needs straps? The baby obviously doesn’t, because no matter how tight, there’s always enough room for escape. And to even attempt to sit the baby back down is seen as child cruelty, there will be planking, crying and coughs, because it is child cruelty after all. Just give up, put Paw Patrol on and start the lengthy clear up process.
Anything within reach, will be reached. They will see things we don’t, they will also eat things we don’t, see what’s edible through a babies eyes for my thoughts on this. Leaving a pack of wipes casually lying around, is asking for trouble, the entire pack ends up strewn across the room, do I deny all knowledge, and put them back? Or throw away, don’t be silly they always get put back in the pack. Trying to remove anything unsuitable from the baby causes crying, but without the tears. Babies become the masters of fake cries, it may not be genuine crying, but it’s genuinely bloody annoying.
Babies sometimes never know what they want. They want to be carried, but they don’t want to be carried, putting them down makes them realise they actually do want to be carried, oh, no, they want to be put down. They need to be asleep but want to be awake and because they need to be asleep, someone needs to suffer, unfortunately that someone is anyone within earshot.
Crying on a car journey, making it known this is a life or death situation so pull the damn car over. Just kidding, she just fancied a cuddle.
Babies like to test people’s patience. Not just ours, but her brothers too. With a brother who has established two is sometimes really shitting terrible, going near him can sometimes be dangerous. The baby will always return, especially when her brother is in the most foul of moods, he’s more fun like that. Her toy/food/clothes/hair are never as appealing as his, even when it’s the same toy/food/clothes/hair.
Who can resist that smile
I often say the babys’ name in a tone that says ‘oh for fucksake, not again’, more often than I expect. Babies are unreasonable, they make us sweat, bring chaos to the day and leave us slightly frazzled every evening. But when we tuck in the little buggers at night, it’s all forgotten. They’re pretty special.