My day started with cradling my nut job baby from 6:30 until 6:30 while he slept.
If then progressed to trying to hold onto said slippery baby in the shower without dropping him.
Into the car and guess who has learnt the stiff baby trick. Woo fucking hoo.
Arrive at Caloundra, take it him out of the seat and oh what’s this sticky substance on my arm. Is it spew? Nope. Fresh shit.
That’s okay, I’ll put his spare pants on. The ones sitting at home on the couch.
Shit everywhere. Running late for my reiki which requires total calm. Zen like fucking calm. Yeah righto.
Nap time while out and about. Why, that’s my favourite. 15 minutes walking the bumpiest part of pavement I could find while old ladies try to stop me to make horrifying faces at my screaming shit machine.
$20 lunch of chewy calamari with mysterious food items and a rogue hair for lunch because my $3 cheeseburger meal seemed a little slack.
Stopped to get bread and milk and oh look, my once super comfortable carrier now breaks my shoulders because it’s adjusted to fit a 6 foot giant.
Home then for playful screams and fake coughs to make my heart falter followed by an hour long melt down and refusal to go the fuck to sleep. Enough boob to put him in a coma and finally success.
Leap Four you are a true asshole. That is until crazy crying screaming poopy monster rolls from back to tummy. Responds with lightening reflexes to the sounds of my voice. Pushing himself higher and harder during tummy time. And strokes my face to put himself to sleep.
Being a mum is disgusting. It’s exhausting. It’s terrifying. And it’s fucking amazing. I remind myself daily that this time next year he won’t need me as much and it will kill me.
So for now I’m happy to be covered in all the bodily fluids he can throw at me. I’m happy to sleep in 1.5 hour intervals. I’m happy to wince when the air reaches my nipples. And I’m so happy to be lucky enough to experience all the good and all the gross with this perfect little human that I made.