This is by far the hardest post I have ever written.
It’s not because the topic is difficult to talk about or taboo. (Oh a ‘mummy blog’! That’s what I should do! I don’t think anyone has done that yet..)
And it’s not because I have come to some deep dark realisations about motherhood that I need to now gracefully divulge and expose.
It’s not EVEN because the baby is asleep, I am showered & fed … and would quite frankly rather take this opportunity to watch Episode 7, Season 2, of Orange Is The New Black. (Although, this is also true.)
But it’s actually because …. my brain in moosh. Mash potato pie. Peas and gravy.
HOWEVER! Bravely, I soldier on. In an effort to not let down my lovely little online community (or to lose my sweet sweet URL)… I am instead going to lose my affection for perfection and … just … roll.
So here goes.
I love my little dumpling daughter. She is adorable and giggly. We got lucky with this one. She has been sleeping through the night for just over a week now (since 9 weeks, read it and weep suckers) and henceforth I feel less like Shrek and more like Michelle McCarthy. Except her name is Melissa. (Just googled it) Moving on.
On the overall, Baby Montasarus is easy and breezy. Especially in her nappy. There is quite a lot of frequent flatulence is what I am saying here.
She is very smart. She already knows how to smile into an iPhone camera (I know I know, settle down Byron Bay, she lives on a beach in the islands she will be oooookkkaaaay). She has recently taken quite a liking to her right arm. The better of the two obviously.
I have learnt a lot in the past 11 weeks. As one would hope. Rearing the young is not for the learning procrastinators. There’s nothing like poo your hair to give you motivation.
I have systems in place. Tricks of the trade. Nappies folded into the lining of my fancy handbag. We have spare clothes hidden in the cracks and corners of things I didn’t even know existed.
We have 35 thousand baby blankets. And as previously mentioned, we live in the islands. So this was perhaps a purchasing oversight. Moving on.
I am drinking again. Hallelujah. I had a big night when baby turned One Month old. To celebrate my 11 month detox. (Did you know technically babies are actually inside you for 10 months… since you need to FINISH your 9th month to get to your due date?? This was something that FASCINATED me when I was RELISHING my time as a bloated vomit machine)
Anyway, don’t worry mums, pre-aforementioned-big-night-out I pumped milk for days in prep. I sweated and toiled over the milking machine. And since my baby is a genius, she took to the bottle like teen to a vodka cruiser. She loved it. AND… she loved coming back to the boob too. (Sorry booooout it) So yes. Now we have another little non-committal, routine rejecter in the family. Wonder. Where. She. Got. It. #freespirit (And Free Spirits for mummy!!! … except for that I pay for them. Moving on.)
All in all, being a mum is better than I ever dreamt. It’s hard. But not like how they make it out to be in the movies. (Unlike everything else … which is depicted so perfectly.)
It’s tiring for sure. One day I was so over it, I threw a chair. I also gently placed my iPhone on the ground and then kicked it lightly, so it was dramatically across the other side of the room, but the screen was protected.
I understand now why parents say it’s a job. It is. But it doesn’t have to be a boring one.
The hours are long but the payment plan is pretty good. Especially if you are like me and steal cash from your baby daddy’s wallet. #hardtruths.
So I guess my underlying message is.. GO OUT AND GET PREGNANT!
Ha. Kidding. Most ya’ll are definitely not ready. (Please cease paying $600 weekly rent in Bondi first per favore.)
But if you do decide you want a little mini me (of your own.. not a mini-matisse.. I’m done for now)… HERE ARE SOME EXCELLENT TIPS
1- Already mentioned the rent.
2-When buying onesies… make sure you get the ones you can place the child ONTO and do up AROUND them. Nobody has time for this ‘over the head’ bull. Zippers are preferable. Let me explain:
3- The hospital says all you need to wipe pooey bums is wet cotton balls. They are wrong. Actual wipes… (believe it or not)… do a much better job. (Which isn’t difficult, because ironically cotton balls, suck balls)
4- Okay this is serious. Zip-up swaddles. Genius. Also the reason I am a semi normal person again. Time is money, and NOBODY has time to be making kebabs out of little kicking and punching munchkins at 2am, 4am, 6am, 8am… need I continue? Once the angel gets used to the zip-up swaddle, they will know it means bed-time and off they go to beautiful dreamland. If they are as brilliant as my kid, they will then sleep for 7 hours. (It’s my blog, I’ll say what I want about my child being the best.)
5- ALSO SERIOUS. the Haakka milk suction cup. GENIUS. When I am feeding little gorgeousface, I put the suction cup on the other boob. I get up to 90 mils without doing a damn thing. 90mils = one feed = a margarita. Product sold.
AND HERE … I SHALL HELP YOU WITH EMOTIONS…
1- There are going to be times, when you feel fat, ugly, really sticky, angry & alone. When that happens, get out of the nightclub, get a cab, and make your way back to you family…
😉 No but seriously. Some days with your baby are going to feel really foreign. Like you are waiting for the real parents to get back, so you can get your babysitting bucks and go to the movies.
But like everything, it passes. I promise. Everything is a phase. Even everything your baby does and is, is just a phase. I am already missing my little tiny newborn … and I haven’t even had time to take my toenail polish off. You will be okay.
2- Mums dont quit.
Okay. Yes. I stole this from the movie ‘Bad Moms’. But it’s true. You don’t get to resign and you wouldn’t want to. That’s our job and it’s never going back up on seek.com. But the good news is. You aren’t the employee…you are the god damn CEO. So if things aren’t working. Change them. Hell, fire some people. Buy a ping pong table.
3- There is no RIGHT answer.
My own supermumma Mother taught me this. When searching relentlessly online about carriers, strollers, carseats, immunisations (sit down Byron Bay I told you once), don’t keep looking for the RIGHT answer. No one is going to tell you, THIS IS THE WAY YOU HAVE TO DO IT. Research is always changing, opinions are always changing, trends are always changing (and unfortunately this last one is the one that drives the Capitalist Mummy Market the most). So don’t think that you have to keep looking until one option is PERFECT. You wont find it. If you protect your kids from polio, you won’t be able to hang out with Alicia Silverstone. It’s just the way it is. It’s a fine balance. (You will however be able to get your kids into schools.)
So do your research.
Make an INFORMED decision.
Then BACK YOURSELF.
Be okay with other (frequently voiced) opinions.
Then back yourself again.
Then when that’s all done and you’re feeling good, go home, make a smoothie and watch Orange is The New Black with your daughter safely cooing in your arms… and don’t worry about the affects of screen time (about violent sexual female prison) on a 11 week old. It’s all good.
Or as I like to say (and would like you all to start saying also) it’s ” Setto in The Ghetto.” (copyright: Matisse)
4- Babies need 4 things. To be fed. To be clean. To be safe. To be loved.
But … like everything else up in this heezy… that’s just my opinion.
So go forth and make children. (This is mostly directed at my friends in Australia & abroad as it seems that everyone is Fiji is having babies anyway. I’m not saying I’m trendsetter. But really I am.)
Lots of love from Monty & Me!