Today I have mastered the art of one handed spreading. The dreaded day has arrived where my husband's paternity leave has come to an end and I am left trying to butter toast with my teeth whilst my baby is permanently attached to me. You would have thought a sling of some kind would help but this child does not seem to appreciate anything that would make mum's life easier; he squirms and squeals until he is held properly in my arms. Quite cute really until you try to make yourself a cup of tea with one hand, then it's just plain awkward. In fact, I didn't have a cup of tea today until 3pm, along with my lunch: haribo again. A slight contrast to the hearty meals my baby is getting every 2 hours for 40 minutes at a time. Mind you, I'm not surprised: I may as well liquidize some haribo and bottle feed it to him.
Still, it's not all bad; I've had my fair share of daytime tv and learnt how to decorate my lounge in 60 minutes, if I could use both my arms. I also arranged for a few visitors today which I was slightly apprehensive about. I don't want to look like an incapable mother if I get all flustered because I've no idea why my baby is crying, especially if I don't know them well enough to be myself and ask them to make me a cup of tea. Still, nothing quite like an icebreaker of flashing your boobs at people by accident in an awkward attempt to breastfeed. Nice. On the positive side, visitors came with chocolate muffins and cake and my sugar levels went soaring again and what could've been a tough afternoon with a grizzly baby, turned into a nice afternoon with cake.
(Based on diary extract from 07/02/2011).
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