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From Endless Yawns To Reckless Dawns

Week 44

Where has the time gone?

I remember trying to imagine her at this age before she was born, and could not wrap my mind around the inevitability.

It is 4:00PM on Sunday afternoon, the cicadas hum in the trees, a family plays a jovial game of tennis on the courts outside, and Michael has taken Little to the park.

I am exhausted, and could use a nap, but that will not release the week’s mundanity on to the page.

My words already feel like a chicken scratching at the earth.

This is not going to be pretty.

Lasts week I managed to write each day as it occurred, but this week the words ran away, and the tiredness piled up.

Quite simply, my creativity did not stand a chance.

Luckily, I have managed to get a minimal amount of purposeful exercise in, which surely must count for something, right?

Thank you Yoga app, and weighted hula-hoop, I love you.

It has only been a week, but I am beginning to feel long and strong.

Take that stupid frumpy bitch face judgment which lives in my head.

However, as for my writing, it has felt as though my pen is stuck in wet cement. Nothing has come easily to paper this week.

Although I did have an interview I wrote late last year published over on the Multi-Tasking Woman website, so that was pretty cool.

Thanks again Eva.

Monday was an early start, as in 4:00AM kind of early.

One madam butterfly bottom, named after her pretty pink butterfly bloomers, would not go back to sleep under any circumstance, no matter what tactic we tried.

She broke us.

She really really broke us.

In between trying to comfort her, we would lay together, holding hands, and try not to snap in half with the frustration, the heartache, and the helplessness of it all.

Why won’t she sleep, we wondered, as our hearts twisted and writhed under the strain of hearing her crying.

She was fine when we were in the room, and would either settle or start talking to us as though it were the middle of the day. However, the moment we left, even after we thought she was asleep, she would burst into tears. Then gradually work herself up into all types of screams. Each more gut wrenching than the last.

We would count to sixty seconds in our heads before one of us would go in and comfort her again. Then two minutes, three minutes, four minutes, and so on.

It was obvious she was tired, but she was beside herself with anxiety, upsetness, and something or other else.

By 5:00AM, Michael reluctantly gave up, and got up with one very overwhelmed and worked up baby girl. Who the moment they went down stairs, became very happy.

I will say this for it, parenting certainly keeps you in the present.

There is No time to dwell on what was a moment before. Be it a sad face, or a silly moment.

Last night I found no less than 71 short videos on my phone of baby girl. Most of them I do not remember taking. But oh how wonderful they are to look back upon.

I did not understand the value of shooting them until I saw them again.

Sure, they may be higgledy-piggledy, but they evoke powerful memories and feelings of love love love love love.

Needless to say, there will be a lot more in the future.

I can only hope, like my writing, they will improve with practice and persistence.

However back to Monday morning.

Michael graciously left me to catch up on some sleep, as he knew how frazzled I was by Little’s antics.

It had been a long night.

By the time, he brought me tea and toast at 8:00AM Emily was beyond exhaustion. She instantly fell asleep in my arms. As in literally curled up in the rock a by baby position and went to sleep as I quietly sang if you are sleepy and you know it close your eyes.

I did not hear a peep from her until midday – she must have needed it.

Meanwhile Michael went for a swim, I snuck in a quick yoga session, followed by a quick hula-hoop, and worked on the blog.

Speaking of which, does anyone know where I can tap into some high resolution free vector graphics?

My imagining is to have the feature images bright and colourful in that cartoonish style. While the photos of our adventures are scattered through my words, all be it hopefully in all the relevant places.

Keep in mind however; something is surely to go amiss given the lack of visual adeptness of a certain scrappy author.

Emily and I had plans to meet her friends Beth and Xanda down the park, but mummy had to cancel because of our sleepy head.

Sorry Nicole, let us try again another day.

When Emily woke up just after midday, our ray of happiness had returned.

At first, I did not hear her cooing sweetly to herself from the next room. However gradually her soft melody of baby talk infused my consciousness, and I practically bounded in there overjoyed to see her again.

I still do that you know, race up the stairs if I have not attended to her in a while, just because I cannot wait to see, touch, or hear her pretty being.

Sometimes someone will offer to baby sit, but neither Michael nor I can think of anywhere we would like to go without her.

If we need time out, we tend to take it as individuals. Basking in the comfort and familiarity of knowing the other is with her.

I think we are lucky to feel this way, and I am sure part of that comes from being older parents.

However, I digress, back to our Monday.

We had a delightful lunch together of carrots infused with orange, followed by delicious fresh raspberries for dessert.

She had never tasted raspberries before, but absolutely loved them. Moreover, to think we thought curry puffs a week earlier were a hit.

Sure, they were great, but not nearly as easy to handle for teeny tiny cutie fingers as berries.

Emma my Orientation and Mobility Instructor arrived later in the afternoon, and we went for a walk to the supermarket.

I know, not exactly exciting stuff, but wait for it… We went with the pram!

Yes, the pram.

Take that universe!

I took baby girl for a walk through our local shopping precinct with the pram.

As usual, we attached the long long camo cane, which doubles as my hiking stick, to the side of the pram.

However as we walked, and Emma observed, we realised the cane was not doing anything.

Given its camo design it blended into the environment, so nobody really noticed its existence.

Add to this the rover wheel on the end instead of a traditional white tip or ball, and one could easily mistake it for part of the pram.

At first, I was reluctant to give it up, as to my mind, I could still gain feedback via the handle, and it did stop me from running directly into the back of the elevator cabin. However eventually I had to concede that maybe Emma was correct.

Maybe we should take it off, and I could give naked pram pushing a shot, I said to her as we strolled round the local shopping centre.

By strolled, I mean really strolled.

Strolled like one of those people I hate, who shows no awareness for the tarried and harried environment around them.

Thinking about it now, I have not had to use that kind of focus since I was an international athlete.

My field narrowed with the effort and the brevity of the task. The sounds around me shifted into the background, the smells dropped away, and there was little more than the feedback from the pram, and my back and forth banter with baby girl.

So maybe this was the key all along, I thought as we wandered very steadily passed the crappy sushi place, and headed toward the bakery.

Maybe I just needed to slow slow slow slow slow down.

After all, I have always maintained the pram makes a good cane, but it does not let others know I cannot see them.

Then Emma suggested the unthinkable, a low vision badge.

I had to stop walking, as I was laughing too hard to concentrate on my surroundings.

You have to be kidding, I said as I gave her the middle finger in response.

Neither of us was surprised at my answer, but we both appreciated the situation, and the obligations of her job.

I am not wearing a badge, I replied emphatically.

For a start, people do not read signs. Besides, I am just not doing it, I continued.

We laughed, and moved on.

Next, we braved the grocery shop, because I figured if there were any place where people had a right not to watch where they were going, this was it.

Emma asked if I needed anything, but I had forgotten my wallet. Furthermore, I could not see the point in orientating the specifics, when they keep moving items of their own accord.

Sure, I know where the milk is, but just when I have figured where the exact brand of milk sits, some executive, who has no idea, decides that the display needs to be shifted in order to justify his job.

Yeah, thanks idiot who does not live in the real world. Don’t you know people prefer consistency?

Therefore, although it may appear handy to know, I would rather spend my energy elsewhere. Such as singing songs to Little, playing in the park, building a web presence, and so on.

Besides, Michael loves to do the grocery shopping. Why should I begrudge him such a simple pleasure.

Walking for the necessities, and browsing the meat case for bargains is his way of relaxing. Sometimes he takes baby girl, and sometimes he does not.

But either way, it is something he seems to enjoy.

On the way home I became a little more confident, and a little more at ease with what I was doing. Whether that be because I was going back the y we came, or because I was becoming reacquainted with the pram, I cannot be sure. However, either way, I was awesome.

We did not run into any people, poles, garbage bins, random obstacles, or any of those stupid little green electrical boxes strategically placed along the path.

We looked at a couple of cafes, but there were not any I could confidently navigate without the baby, let alone with the pram.

Therefore, at this point, coffee with Emily like the other mothers do is out of the question.

By the other mothers, we all know I am talking about those mamas with the perfectly sculpted asses in the designer yoga pants, with the matching high tech joggers, long glossy tresses, manicured nails, and perfectly behaved children of my imagination.

Oh wait a sec, is that what they would wear to the café?

I might have to re-think this ensemble.

The Faulty Towers type café with the most terrible coffee we used to frequent is conspicuous in its sudden departure from the local food scene. Moreover, that was the only one open enough to comfortably manoeuvre the pram.

I wonder what will open in its place.

Emily loves Emma, so her afternoon was relaxing.

Michael and I thought this might make putting her to bed that evening a little easier, but it was not to be.

We do not understand why she dislikes her bed.

It is such a struggle to get her to settle.

Honestly, we are at a complete loss as to how to get her through this transition.

Somewhere in the wee hours, we were all awake due to a certain cutie cute cute cute cute being absolutely distraught, and refusing to sleep.

By the time she went back down, my head ached, and my teeth were on edge.

Therefore, when she woke for the day a little less than three hours later, Michael had to take her. I simply could not move. I knew that if I got up, and let him rest, I would have been out of action for the next week and a half.

Tuesday flew by, as we pottered about.

Michael and Emily spent the morning in the park, before he went for a swim.

After she woke from her tiny daytime nap, I decided we needed to look at this whole sleeping situation from another angle.

Given how much she has struggled with our leaving the room, it occurred to me that maybe she does not understand how close we are all situated. Therefore, in a bid to help ease her anxiety, and please please please make her go to sleep, we practiced our crawling along the landing between the bedrooms.

Back and forth we went, over and over again.

This is Emily’s room. Can you see your bed?

Oh look and this is mummy’s room. Can you see mummy’s bed?

This is where you sleep.

This is where daddy and mummy sleep.

Back and forth we went.

All the while my heart was in my mouth, because as hard-core a helicopter parent as I was being, our banisters are not safe, and do not protect baby girl from potentially falling down the stairs.

I hovered like no woman has hovered before.

Emily kept looking at me like I was insane, because she is used to me giving her space, and having more of a casual you will be ok approach. Therefore, I am sure my fierce over protective physical presence was confusing to her, but she can tell her therapist all about it when she is older.

Eventually we settled in mummy’s office. We stacked our humpty eggs, coloured cups, Peter Rabbit boxes, plastic blocks, and anything else we could find.

Emily loves her towers.

We read books, played chasings, ate delicious raspberries again, sang songs, and deconstructed puzzles.

Between you and me, those puzzles do not get any easier to put back together.

Periodically we would crawl back to her room, to reinforce her new perspective of just how close she is to us when we sleep.

Obviously, we carry her between our rooms and up and down the stairs all the time, but that is not the same as her finding her own way in her own time.

When daddy came home, he and Emily hopped in her little pool for a bath.

What makes it a bath I hear you ask? Well the fact we throw a face washer in and a couple of buckets of warm water of course.

As usual, madam did not cope well with her dinner, because she was so so so so so tired.

However, this did not mean she went down without a challenge.

At least it was initially a little easier than the night before.

I worry we are breaking her spirit by our go to sleep approach.

However, we just do not know what to do.

Again, we comfort her, cuddle her, console her, and kiss her.

We lay her down, rub her back, hold her hand, and tell her everything will be alright.

Anything to let her know we are there, and she is loved.

Slowly slowly, she settles into slumber, but only to wake the moment we try to leave the room. Moreover, if per chance we make it back to our bed, she seems to sense we are not nearby, and the tears start all over again.

We count to sixty seconds, rinse, and repeat.

We count to one hundred and twenty seconds, rinse, and repeat.

We count to one hundred and eighty seconds, rinse and repeat.

However because I am so tired and warn out when I am counting, and practically falling asleep, I am certain to miss tens of numbers, so who knows how long it really is between going back and forth into her room.

Oh, God Little, please please please go to sleep.

What do you need? What do you want? How can we help? What can we do?

Not for the first time, Michael and I found ourselves huddled together under our covers wondering how we can assist baby girl find her equilibrium. Each of us feeling helpless, exhausted, and overwhelmed with the process.

Oh God, it is horrible.

Eventually we get her back down, only for dawn to arrive too quickly in our universe. And with the light of day, the calls of one baby girl permeate our sleepy heads.

However, this time Michael cannot move. Therefore, I reluctantly get up, and take Little downstairs for breakfast.

It does not matter how rough our night has been, the moment I feel her running legs against my belly, her weight in my arms, her breath on my shoulder, and her little hands around my neck, my heaviness dissolves into nothing.

She ate our toast, mummy drank her tea, and we babbled like usual. However Emily’s teeth were coming through, which meant her appetite was not its usual healthy vibrant self. Therefore, we cancelled our usual second course of porridge, left over lamb, or chicken pasta, due to a lack of interest.

I had planned our Wednesday to be adventure day, but it did not work out.

Emily went down for a nice long nap, and when she woke, she was happy to be at home.

Maybe yesterday’s upstairs exploration did have an impact after all, because she did seem a little more at ease.

Either that or she was exhausted.

Daddy spent the day cleaning the laundry, and doing odd jobs around the house.

To be honest given how beautiful and sunny the weather was, I expected Michael to announce he would be going for a swim.

However, the ants he found in the washing machine earlier that morning thwarted his secret plan.

Later in the afternoon, I put Emily on my hip, and we went to the library to meet her friends Harrison and Ronya for a quiet play.

I worry I do not do enough with Emily, and am really trying to remedy the situation.

I thought about taking her in the pram, but was not completely confident I could get us there and back. After all, we had not navigated to the library, and I did not want Michael to worry about us, or feel he had to come with us because he was not confident in my abilities.

Therefore, we put our beautiful sun hats on, I hoisted her on the hippy thing, and off we set.

Daddy really needs to fix mummy’s zebra cane, because it would have matched our outfits perfectly. And imagine how cute we would have looked then? As it was, we had to settle for the love hearts.

Never mind.

Sometimes I wonder what happened to that fiery and feisty headstrong girl I used to be. The one who would say, “Fuck it! I am doing what I want…,” regardless of what anyone says. Because in truth, I could have taken the pram, and we would have been fine. However as is my new custom, I acquiesced, under the guise of pick your battles wisely, and does it really matter?

The answer is yes and no.

However, it is a riddle with many answers, and as my husband says, there are many shades of grey my girl.

As we were playing in the library, Emily wandered over to a yellow wet floor sign, and as usual, I thought nothing of it. However lucky the other mums were keeping an eye out and they caught baby girl just before she put her hands in a pile of vomit.

I was mortified. Mortified because I could not make sense of the smell in the context of our environment, and mortified because what was a pile of vomit doing in the middle of the toddlers area of the library?

I would assume that the library would be a safe place for baby girl to explore.

Sure, I understand that librarians aren’t payed to clean up mess, but seriously? Seriously! Leaving putrid bodily waste in a public building is not acceptable.

After we said good-bye to Ronya and her mummy at our front gate, Emily and I skipped inside so she could tell her daddy all about her afternoon.

I brought her home because she was tired, but she refused to go down for a nap.

We thought we would try calming her down and wearing her out by having her and daddy hop in the clamshell pool again.

This week has been a great week for swimming.

Hello beautiful Australian summer.

Getting her down on Wednesday night was not as painful as it had been. Still, it took us almost an hour.

She slept a little better, but it was still rough.

The only advantage to her not sleeping is her cries rescue me from my dreams where I am stuck in Communist China, and cannot get out.

Yep, hands up who can guess what the latest book I am reading is about.

Thursday mummy went to work. Therefore, I do not have a blow-by-blow description of what Emily and her daddy did to keep themselves occupied.

When I asked Michael, he was too tired to remember, and said that everything is a blur.

I feel for him, he is doing such a good job with the cutie cute cute cute, but I know he has never experienced anything so intense, relentless, exhausting, and wonderful.

Would he change it? Oh hell no!

I never have to ask him to take Emily to the park, or any such thing. As it is, he has come in this afternoon from his swim, the way he does most afternoons, and even before he has kissed us hello, he is asking Emily if she would like to go and play.

They must have ran into someone they know, because they have been gone quite a while.

However back to Thursday.

It was an absolute scorcher, and I remember something about them being very busy in the pool. However, Thursday night stands out as a cracker.

Just when I thought maybe we had transitioned through whatever weird phase we are in now is Emily brought out the big guns.

All afternoon she had been putting her hands in my mouth, but not in quite the same way as she usually does.

Usually we play the that is mummy’s mouth where is Emily’s mouth game. Where she hooks her fingers over my bottom teeth, and makes my head nod up and down.

This causes her no end of amusement.

However, on Thursday, I noticed she was touching my top teeth.

Then it dawned on me, she was trying to tell me her top teeth hurt.

Therefore, I put my finger in her mouth, which is always a risk, and sure enough, there was at least one top front tooth cutting through the gum.

How could I have missed this, I wondered, as yet again we scrambled for the baby pain relief.

God I hate giving her that stuff, especially more than one evening in a row. However it does help her, calm down when she is completely inconsolable.

Of course, she had been trying to show me where her headache was, but for how long had I missed the signs?

Three hours, it took three hours to put her to sleep that evening.

It never ever ever takes that long.

Again, I tried everything.

Pour Michael was depleted, and could not face it with his usual vigour, so I had to step up.

It still amazes me, how when one of us does not have the inner resources to pull it together, the other does.

Up and down the stairs I went.

I rocked her in the rocking chair, paced the floor in her room, sat next to her as she cried in her cot.

Picked her up, put her down, rubbed her belly, rubbed her back, smoothed her hair, spoke softly to her, placed her dummy back in her mouth, patted her bottom, gave her water, and gave her kisses.

However still she could not sleep.

She stumbled and fumbled her way around her cot like a caged tiger.

I felt terrible.

I sat on the top step, and listened to her cry until I could not take it anymore, then started the whole process again.

Eventually, she had no choice but to give way to her exhaustion. And just like that, she lay down of her own accord, put her bottom in the air, turned her head to the side, and fell asleep.

We did not hear from her again until 2:00AM.

Sorry you had such a shocker night sweetie.

Friday morning we were all up, and again mummy went to work.

Although we were having such a good time playing, I almost forgot to leave the house.

However, that is when it all fell apart.

Michael said they had a very unhappy day. However thankfully they were able to get out of the house after her monster morning nap, go to the shops, and meet Ronya and her mummy in the library for a play.

I understand I too had a not so amazing day on Friday also.

When they came to pick me up from the station that afternoon, Emily would not let go of my hand for twenty minutes.

I realised then, that maybe I need to be more specific when I am leaving the house of a morning, and tell her some of the things, which are likely to occur throughout her day before I return. That way she will not be left wondering where is her mummy for the entire time.

She understands so much of what we say and do now.

You are so clever baby girl.

We could not get her down soon enough on Friday evening, but still it was obvious those teeth were giving her grief.

Still anything, less than the three-hour marathon from the night before would be a bonus.

Thank God, although it was a bit of a battle, it was nothing like what it had been. Even Emily could not muster the enthusiasm for her ritual I do not want to be in my bed even though I am so so so so so tired protests.

Saturday was a very big day, as Little turned ten months old.

I know, can you believe it?

Our baby girl is in her double digits.

What a milestone.

We started our celebrations by getting up, and letting a tired daddy sleep a little longer.

I miss the energy we had when she was first born. Nevertheless, at the same time, I cannot imagine a life with a full night of sleep ever again.

Somehow, four hours is still enough, but not enough. If I have more, I feel like shit, but if I do not have any more, I cannot sustain it.

What is the answer.

As usual, we ate breakfast, I drank my tea, and Emily played with her toys.

On the weekend, I try and defer to what Michael wants to do, given how he has been home with one wiggle pot for the two days previous.

It is all a part of how I cope with my mother guilt for not being there the entire time, and sometimes preferring to go to work because I know on one level it is far easier than looking after our grumble bumble bee. Therefore, by mid-morning he was out the door, and on his way to do some errands, and have a swim of course.

Oh and by the way, he would like the world to know; he shops at ALDI now, and says that you should as well.

He was so excited when he came home, that he made me stand in the kitchen while he ran through everything he bought, and how much it cost in comparison to the other supermarket giants.

It is always nice to see him so happy.

Not to mention how handsome he looks with his new haircut.

In the meantime, Emily and I had a long lunch on the kitchen floor.

She with her blue berries, green peas, and half of mummy’s pasta, and me with well, half my pasta.

And to think I had been worried a while back, when I had stopped breast feeding, and was putting on a little weight while my body adjusted to the new state of affairs. It turns out, that was just a phase. Emily and I like to share my food, so unless it is coffee or chocolate, I usually end of with less than what I intended.

We had never given her peas in their regular form before, but she absolutely devoured them, even after the tartness of the berries.

I think she likes how well she can pick them up and pop them in her mouth by herself.

Now I am wondering what other roundy roundy foods we can give her besides other berries, grapes, cherries, olives, chickpeas, and cherry tomatoes.

She was such a mess after her tasting platter that we needed to have a bath.

However little miss cheeky cheeky has a new favourite game called chase me to put my nappy on.

I kid you not; it took fifteen minutes to wrangle her back into that thing after her impromptu wash.

I cannot believe I used to think when she did not do this, that it would be awfully cute if she did.

What I meant by that of course was, that if she ran away from Michael while he was trying to dress her, and I could laugh at him.

Of course, it is still cute, but oh my goodness, this new nappy acrobatics routine we have is not easy to master.

Then there are the clothes. We can get one leg in her pants, but by the time we get the second situated, the first has come out again. This goes on, on, and on sometimes.

However, don’t think that she does not know what she is doing.

She knows exactly.

Yesterday for example, after getting her dressed, I put her down to run free among the stuffed animals, and she literally turned around, climbed on to my lap, and asked for a book.

Go figure!

Just when we thought the sleep thing would never change, last night when we put her down, she cried just as I left the room, but by the time I reached the bottom of the stairs, she was asleep.

We barely heard a peep from her until her 11:30PM feed, and even then she went back to sleep with no fuss. The same for her 3:30AM feed. Therefore, when she woke at 6:30AM, we had our happy girl back.

Today she seemed more grown up.

Today she played for longer periods on her own, and did not seem to notice if either Michael or I came or left the room.

However, the best part was when my sister Nicole came over for fancy ass bacon and eggs this morning, Emily took to her straight away.

Before I knew it, Nicole was down on the floor, and Emily was chasing her, climbing on her lap, and telling her all the things.

Baby girl was not shy, and in all honesty, we probably could have left the house, and Emily would have been happy to play with her aunt, otherwise known as the magical sleep fairy. For whenever Nicole comes over, Emily usually sleeps for hours.

It has always been this way.

The first time Nicole came to meet her, baby girl slept the entire three and a half hours Nicole was visiting. Moreover, I am pretty sure the second time was not much different.

So if anyone needs a magical sleep fairy, I am sure we can come to some arrangement.

Hang on; is it wrong to rent out your sister without asking her?

Oh its ok, she reads this blog.

I know this, because this morning, she arrived with two grocery bags full of unexpected provisions directly off my wish list from several posts back.

Thanks sissy, you are amazing.

Now I have flour, sugar, curry paste, coconut milk, four types of pasta, and several other supplies to help me feel better about the world.

Between that, and Michael’s new found appreciation for a weekly shop, and things are definitely looking more positive.

Nicole stayed and played with us for ages, which was lovely.

She gave baby girl her bottle, changed her nappy, put her down for a nap, played blocks, told stories, and watched her eat her yummy chicken and pasta puree lunch before going home, probably to have a nap herself.

At one point, I thought about asking her to take Emily for a walk in the pram so I could lie down, but I was afraid it would be asking too much.

After all, I did not feel that bad, ultimately, I could have taken Emily myself, and we both would have felt better for it.

We love you Nicole, come again soon.

As usual, Michael takes advantage of our having company, and went for a swim.

You are lookin’ pretty fit honey.

And this brings us back to the beginning of my story, because when he got home, he took Emily to the park.

On the toy front, big bear, dragon, and the Peter Rabbit boxes have been getting quite a lot of attention.

She is getting really good at putting blocks back in the bucket, and stacking things on top of one another.

You should have seen the excitement on her face when naughty dolly made an appearance from the top shelf today.

I have been trying to rotate her toys of late, and it appears to be working.

One of the most interesting things I am finding is how I discover the details of things through Emily.

For example, when I first met Michael, I had a period where my vision went wonky, and I lost a lot of detail all at once. Literally, things would disappear almost overnight, be it a drawer handle, a kitchen appliance, a throw cushion, the pattern on my dress, or any number of things I can no longer remember. However now through Emily, and her exploration of the world, I am rediscovering things I had forgotten, be it a drawer handle, a dead leaf, the power cords in the corner of the room, or the fact a baby girl can see her reflection in the television.

Therefore as her world expands, so does mine.

Thank you Little.

Talking with her has become so much fun. Everything this week has been all about the play.

Play play play.

Play is her favourite word. Closely followed by book, pants, and dadadadadadadad.

Other well liked words include pretty, pasta, raspberries, blocks, love, yes, socks, although they sound a lot like pants, and bububububub.

Mummy still does not have a word, but is more of a tone. While hungry is a hhaha sound, and who knows what wowoo really means.

Today she repeated Nicole’s cheeky cheeky phrase, and even came out with an I want, and an I have.

What I have noticed is I tend to use more specific words than Michael when we are communicating.

For example, I will say keep your bib on; while he will say, leave it on.

Speaking of which, if I had any advice for a new mum, it would be to get the bibs with the press-studs in the back, because they are more difficult for baby to take off than the Velcro ones.

I do not know how long I have spent this week, wrestling with a certain baby girl to keep her bib on while we are eating.

Some meals I have literally been putting the spoon and pouch down in order to readjust her bib because she has removed it.

I can see she is growing up though, because we do not have nearly the same problems when she is feeding herself.

My concern with that is how do I know she is getting enough?

I mean this morning she ate an entire large banana by herself.

I thought we would share it, and I could have some for my first breakfast, but apparently not.

Our cutie cute cute cute scoffed the whole thing, and then proceeded to munch on my toast.

However, it is not always like that. Sometimes I think she is eating really well, only to find her food scattered across the kitchen, and hiding under her bottom when I lift her out of the chair.

At least when I feed her, I can sort of gage what she is getting. But even then, how much is too much?

What should she be eating at this stage?

Will she let me know when she is full?

These things really do not come with an instruction manual do they.

Project potty is definitely on the back burner, as Emily is showing no interest.

We changed her formula a week or so back, and things have not quite been the same.

Now I think about it, I wonder if that has been contributing to her sleeplessness. Because maybe it was giving her a tummy ache.

We have since changed back, so hopefully it will help, but who knows.

I have spent a lot of time sitting just outside her room this week gaging her cries, and feeling ignorant and inadequate regarding how to ease the situation.

I cannot help but think there has to be another way, but nothing I have read provides any relief.

Sure, there are all these names for different approaches and strategies a mama can try in order to soothe her baby to sleep, but nothing I have found to really tap into the essence of what will work for us.

I hate the idea of Emily being upset at the end of the day. Especially when it is so not necessary.

Michael says it is her choice, which is very wise and philosophical of him, but it does not stop her crying.

Since I started writing this, she and Michael have returned from the park, she has had her dinner, a bath, a bottle, and been put to bed.

It is too early to tell what our evening is likely to be, but we live in hope.

She played her daddy fairly well tonight; therefore, she has not been down long.

Sweet dreams baby girl. We will see you in the morning.

Published inThe Blunder Weeks

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