Friday, 21 September 2012

A Day in the Life


The living room. Changing bag, nappies and spare baby clothes are strewn about the floor. Husband is plugged into facebook. I am dozing under a blanket on the sofa. Baby has woken up in his moses basket, covered in cold wee and protesting this loudly. Husband does a nappy change as I gradually awaken, and hands me clean baby for 30 minutes of vigorous nipple sucking.


Baby wakes needing changed and fed again. Husband changes. I feed. Discuss whether it is worth dragging our sorry carcases upstairs to sleep in a proper bed. If so, this will be the first time we’ve made it that far in three days. Decide to sleep in bed. Carry baby and moses basket upstairs and settle baby. Brush teeth and get into PJ’s. Husband sleeps. I sit awake faffing with I-Phone. Finally sleep about 5.30


 Baby wakes.  Note visit from health visitor is due today. This requires house work. Also, should make baby presentable. Take baby to bathroom and dunk briefly into baby bath. Baby hates this. Much crying. Put baby into fresh nappy and clothes and take back to bed for nip sucking and cuddles. Settle baby to sleep. Shower and get dressed into proper clothes. Feel hugely proud to have managed to do this every day this week. Restock stash of nappy change stuff and clothes on bedside table. Take baby and moses basket downstairs to face the day.


 Put on washload as recommended by Flylady, my peppy American housework guru. Clear decks in living room, removing dirty dishes, wine bottles and discarded socks. Tidy change bag in living room and restock with nappy change stuff and spare clothes. Bring downstairs, blue spiral notebook containing outline of terribly important lefty analysis of something or other, which I optimistically hope to write up at some point in the day. Eat cereal and drink cup of tea.


 Baby wakes wanting changed and fed. Baby vomits dramatically over mine and own clothes. Baby looks at me with baleful eyes as I strip sopping babygrow from scrawny body. Put baby down and rush upstairs to make self presentable before health visitor arrives. Clean clothes perilously low. Settle on slightly soiled jeans belonging to husband. Get downstairs dressed in clothes just in time for….


 Health visitor. Dog barks from kitchen. Unable to offer tea as would lead to:
  1. Possible escape and trouble making by dog
  2. Health visitor witnessing kitchen of filth, currently acting as repository for stuff that had to be moved out of living room to make it presentable for health visitors. 
Baby gets weighed. 5lbs 2oz! Up one whole pound from his birth weight. Health visitor very pleased and baby gets stella write up in the little red book. Health visitor asks typical awkward questions about state of my mental health, social life and levels of enthusiasm for breast feeding support group. Usher health visitor out of door, felling slightly guilty for failure to offer tea.


More feeding of baby. This time no spewing. Result. Attempt to read book while breast feeding. Wonder whether I should be using any of this time to talk to or bond with baby. Can’t think of anything to say to baby. Continue to read book, while shifting baby awkwardly in order to turn pages.

14.00: How is it 2? How did this happen? Have been up and awake since 8.00 and yet almost nothing has been achieved. Resign self to definitely not getting around to terribly important lefty analysis. Carry baby to kitchen and settle in pram, which is stored by cupboard under stairs. Wash dishes and shift rubbish covering worktops into bins. Think about lunch.


 Text from friend. Do I want to come out for a dog walk? Yes, yes and yes! Adult company, sunshine and exercise. Friend comes around and I enlist her help to drag heavy pram down 4 flights of stairs as am still not able to do this with caesarean wound. Wander around park in brilliant sunshine, nattering with friend, stopping to pass the time of day with acquaintances, watching dogs chase about. More nappy changing happens. Also confident public breast feeding. Yay!!


Get back home. Prevail on husband to help with pram up the stairs. Take washing out of drier. Cook and eat lentil soup. Husband finishes cleaning kitchen, does some hovering and changes baby. Another feed and settle baby to sleep.


Write fluffy blog post about looking after babies. Fail to start earnest lefty analysis. Far too daunting this time of night. Husband plugs himself into facebook. Arrange self on sofa with blanket. Settle down for a doze before night feeds start. Make mental note of things to do tomorrow: still need to register baby with GP, return library books, write thank you cards for baby presents and so on and so forth. Top of the list: terribly important lefty analysis of something or other


 Rinse and repeat 

1 comment:

  1. Have you considered reading aloud to the baby? that way, you're reading what you want to read but the baby feels like it's part of it too? although from what I've seen, he's pretty happy with 'the nip please, hold the chat' for now :)