On Motherhood.


This week Arthur threw up in my mouth and on a separate occasion I caught his sick in my hands. We’re weaning at the moment which means I sometimes have banana in my hair, or I find stray bits of avocado in usual places. Most days we both go through several outfit changes (I won’t mention the other bodily fluids, most people have heard all about nappy blow-outs). On Thursday he accidentally scratched my eye, which eventually led to a visit to the GP for antibiotics.*


Life with a baby is not easy.


Despite any of those things, and give or take plenty other things which haven’t happened this week, but do happen**, I love being Arthur’s mum more than I could possibly explain.



Right now, knackered and sore (eye, back, boobs, etc) as I am, I’m the happiest I have ever been, because getting to be Arthur’s mum alongside Jack being his dad, is quite simply the best thing ever.


Arthur is without a doubt the happiest baby I have ever met (and nearly every person who has met him has told me that he’s the happiest baby they have ever met, too!). He usually only gets upset for two simple reasons: he’s hungry, or he wants to stand up and we’re not complying. As you can imagine, both of these things are easily rectified, which means he very rarely cries.



I get a ridiculous amount of pleasure from his smiles and laughter, which as per the two above points, is pretty much constant. The second I go to his cot for his first daytime feed, he always gives me the most adorable, beaming smile, and I just want to cuddle him all day long. Seeing Jack and Arthur play together is the sweetest thing, I can see that they love each other so, so much and it makes my heart soar. This is of course seconded by when Barns and Ginger choose to have a nap next to him (see also: when Arthur is being a bit grabby with their fur, but they’re happy to be with their humans so they carry on purring and stick with it).



As I write this, I’m lying next to Arthur in bed, pausing every now and then to watch him sleeping. Barns is next to us, stretching out in the sunshine, tummy up. Arthur is sleep boobing***, has specks of banana on his face (and on his vest) and is making tiny, squeaky snores. Every now and then he sighs and stretches his fingers and toes.


I get that this isn’t everybody’s idea of a perfect life, but I know that it’s mine.



* You guys, I am downplaying this – the pain was so intense I couldn’t talk through it by the time I was sitting in the waiting room at the GP. My eye was almost constantly streaming & my upper and lower lid were super swollen. Totally gross. I’ve also been wearing sunglasses because bright lights are hurting my eyes & they remind me not to rub them when they start to itch.

** Teething on my nipples, deciding 0430 is the time for the day to begin, pulling clumps of my hair out, that time he projectile pooped, refusal to nap during the daytime unless he is on or next to someone, screaming so loudly that we wince & the cats run away…

*** Making the same lip pout & suck motion he does when he’s feeding, minus the boob. Totally melts my heart.

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