Tooth Tooth Teeth!

I wrote this blog almost two weeks ago. Haven't had a moment since to sit down and put it up. Since I wrote it things haven't changed much (except may be, that my hold on sanity is becoming increasing fragile!). Baby: Still teething. Still not sleeping. Still amazingly cute. Me: Trying to cope. Trying to stay alive. Trying to stay sane.

Through all of this a few things that have helped : coffee, baking and my cousin's visit. Thanks R!

So, we have had a rough couple of nights in the last week. Though I suppose they could have been worse. His teeth, his teeth! When will all his teeth come through! Poor baby. He really has been teething pretty much all his life. He was 3 months old when it started. The drooling. The chewing. The biting. I thought, great! early teether! We'll be all done by the time he's one! Right? Not quite. His first tooth cut through just a week shy of his first birthday. And now at nearly 22 months we still have 11.5 teeth to go (well yes, one the pre-molars is half in and half out!)

I can't really think of anything worse than a toothache. And then to have this constant niggling pain/pressure under your gums. I'm often amazed at how well he deals with it. Most of the time. The nights are always worse. Though I think he's figured out that if he wakes himself up and starts playing, he can deal with it better. Hence the sleepless nights full of painting the walls and hopping up and down; and for me, thousands of extra calories that I most definitely do not need. Of course there are nights when he's just so sleepy, all he wants to do is sleep, not paint or hop or read books or destroy the flat (these times are rare, but it does happen!). And he can't, because of his darned teeth. Those nights are the worst. Up. And crying. And in obvious distress. Nothing worse.


Every time that I come close, so close, to the end of my tether (Husband hates that phrase. For reasons I still haven't quite figured out), I try to remember that its probably (most certainly in fact) worse for him. Babies have so much to deal with. And toddlers even more. Everything is new/ interesting yet potentially frightening. And then there is the physical discomfort that comes with being a baby. Burping, gas, tummy aches, allergies, rashes, nappies, teething, growing pains and very limited powers of expression. I think all things considered they do exceedingly well.

Baby is getting better at the whole communication thing though. And the joy on his face when I get some of his more complicated attempts! Like this good friend of mine once said, (her baby is exactly 9 months older then mine) some things get easier, others get harder. Truer words were never spoken!

And through all of this the baking continues. I am really quite new to the whole thing, and I don't have any of the gear (weighing scales, measuring cups etc etc) but when has that stopped me before huh! And I must say there is something comforting about baking. Maybe its the precise-ness, the order. I suppose on some level it balances the chaos that the rest of my life has become. Anyway, baked a great banana and blueberry cake and some really buttery chocolate chip cookies. Not bad for a newbie!

Separation anxiety, baking and Plath

So as I start I've decided that I'm going to blog at least once  a week. You see the only way I can get any time on my own to do anything at all is to leave the house. Without baby. So a weekend blog it's going to be! I have a little weekend ritual. Every weekend I try and leave baby with father and take off for a few hours (the operative word being "try"). More often than not I find a cafe, order something to drink (sometimes with lunch, other times I skip lunch and go straight for the dessert!), and try and do two things: not think about baby (for at least 10 mins. What? I'm not a fantasist!), and to write. Something. Anything. Not that I manage to get away every weekend. And even when I do there have been times when the phone has rung barely twenty mins into my away time. Yelling baby, exasperated father. Oh the joys!

So you see now my "away time" is going to be my blog time! I'm sure none of this is even remotely interesting for any of you, but hey this *is* my life!

So anyway, the big thing this week has been "separation anxiety". It seems the fact that baby is with me all day and night long is just not enough. If I so much as take a step away from him (to do something totally unreasonable, like say, go to the loo!) even when his father is in the same room, it leads to such inconsolable crying that I've decided going to the loo alone is over-rated. Hugely. It's all a bit strange. Because he really is an independent little boy. Keeps himself busy. With his toys, crayons (he loves "painting"), books, destroying the house. And he does really want to be left alone, most of the time. Of course he's not even two yet so he does clamber into my lap every now and then, just to check in. We have our "cuddle time" and "tickle time" and more recently "kitkitkit Kashmiri tickle time"! 

According to "Dr. Google" this whole "I-can't-bear-to-let-you-out-of-my-sight" thing is a toddler thing. A phase. He'll grow out of it. Apparently. So while I wait for the time when he's away at university screening my calls, I try to remember that with babies, toddlers, everything is a phase. And it's true. You really actually do forget. Burping, gas and vaccinations which were the big things in our lives just a year ago are such long-forgotten non-issues now that we are dealing with our pre-molars cutting through. And of course separation anxiety.

The other day after a really hard night (he kept his eyes closed, though I knew he wasn't sleeping, for as long as I rocked him. The minute I'd stop he'd start crying), both of us finally managed to sleep for a couple of hours in the morning. I woke up, as usual just heartbeats before him. He opened his eyes, looked at me, smiled and said, "aayeyah (that's what baby calls himself these days) love mamma!" Worth all the sleepless nights in the world. A thousand times over.

Oh almost forgot, the other thing this week has been baking! The not so long rainy afternoons do seem less dreary when you can smell the brownies baking (sometimes burning, but what the hey!). Either that or maybe I'm going down the "Plath path"! Thankfully I'm not talented enough to seriously contemplate killing myself. Phew.

And if anyone wants to try my take on the traditional banana bread, give me a shout!

Hi!

 

There are so many of us. Thirty-something first time mums. Seriously, almost every single friend of mine (with many smart and much envied exceptions of course) has either had a baby in the last couple of years or is about to have one. To say that having a baby changes your life, is a major understatement and a bit obvious. By now all of us know just how much your life and your world changes (and those of you who's bundles of joy are still in your tummies, you'll find out soon enough - for now, sleep! Please!)

I'll tell anyone who asks and quite a few poor unsuspecting souls who don't, that having and raising a baby is the hardest thing I've ever done. And I've done a lot of hard things in my life. Well kind of. I've pulled all nighters before exams. Written entire research papers in days. Worked 12 hour shifts. Spent days on my feet. Worked long hard night shifts. Of course once you have a baby you realise there's a whole new definition of "hard". And no matter how many night shifts you pull, you get no bloody days off. And that is the essence of it all. It's just so full-time. No time off. No recovery time. No sick days. No "me" time. No time at all. 

And then you have people. Well meaning people who keep telling you what the "Right Way" of doing everything is. They also helpfully tell you that things will get better. I've since learned to tone down my instinctive response to all such people. Which is essentially "Go to hell!". And "No it doesn't get better. You get better at dealing with it. (whatever the "it" of the moment is). And just as you do, baby throws something completely new into the mix, and bang, you'right where you started."

There are times I'm convinced it's just me. Maybe there are women out there who deal with extreme sleep deprivation and an almost total annihilation of their selfhood much better. Or maybe they have perfect little babies who sleep 12 hour nights, nap on time, eat well and say excuse me when they burp and poop! Don't get me wrong. I adore my baby. He's wild and strong minded, wilful, and has so much personality that a townful of "perfect" babies and their mums pale into insignificance in front of him. (Okay so maybe I'm a bit biased. He's my son! I'm in love with him! I'm allowed!). And I can't even for a second imagine my life without him. And there's nothing I wouldn't do for him.

But that doesn't mean I'm not aware of the toll this whole situation is taking on me, my husband and sometimes our relationship with each other. It's great, but man it's hard. Really really hard. Rewarding, sure, but back-breaking. And sometimes quite lonely.

So after all of this by way of an introduction, let me come to the point. (Yeah, I've been told I don't do "succinct" very well. I've made my peace with that!). I just thought it might be useful to have a place where we could connect. Talk. About baby driving us crazy (well, at least in my case!). But also about other things. Work. Play (I don't know, maybe some of you have it figured out so well that play actually happens. Please tell me how!). Books. Films. Food. Sleepless nights. Music. Little luxuries (like sleep! And long hot showers!). Big anxieties (is he eating too little? Too much? What?). Rants. Things that help. Things that don't. Anything. 

I'll start posting. Every one of you is welcome to write. I know it' ll be erratic (in my case for sure). And even if you don't want to write, read, and tell me what you think.

Oh almost forgot, though I'm sure by now you've figured out the thought behind the title of this blog. Lady? What lady? And leisure? Hah! Let's leave it at that then!

So anyway, hello to you all and let's shake it up!