It’s been a week since we welcomed little ‘Fred into the world, and it has been … intense. In other words: “flipping insane; really who thought four small people (including three under-four) would be a good idea?!”
We did. Suckers.
I’ve found myself reduced to being nothing but a walking life support machine; the sole purpose of my existence right now is keeping four
miniature terrorists small people alive. This basically looks like me shouting these things all at once:
- GET THAT OUT OF YOUR MOUTH!!
- STOP HITTING/KICKING/BITING YOUR BROTHER/SISTER!
- DON’T TOUCH THE BABY!
- DON’T DO (insert various dangerous things here) !!!
Oh, and I’m also throwing sandwiches, bottles of water and fresh nappies at them, while drowning myself in instant coffee.
Ah, sweet family life.
There is good reason for this not being the face of modern parenting. No one would ever have children again. “Hey, want to sacrifice your body and sanity for little people who are going to slowly kill your will to live; whining, pooping, and forever scrolling on Netflix all the way?”
“… no thanks. I’m fine with my freedom, wine and not having to share a wheel of camembert with an army of shrieking banshees.”
Banshees love camembert.
Anyway, when it comes to creating new people, I am very, very done. I am incredulous that we have not come up with a better solution to growing people than inside other people. Last week I remembered just how damn painful labour is – conveniently while I was in labour. I also decided then that it is all stupid and there is no way I was ever going to do it again because of how stupid it really is. Mature, right?
And newborns, man. They don’t let you sleep; and if they do, you’re constantly waking and flipping out over whether they’re still alive. I had forgotten the feeling of pure exhaustion that burns behind your eyes; how a feed-burp-settle cycle can take two hours in the middle of the night; how it’s somehow magically possible to run on such little, broken sleep.
Throw in the insane amounts of laundry, coffee cups that end up half-drunk and left all over the house, and trying to divide your attention to a billion different places, and it’s all just too much to consider doing ever again.
Not to put off any expectant or longing-to-be mothers.
HAVE KIDS, IT’S GREAT. STOP READING MY BLOG, DAMN IT.
There are pro’s to having the baby earth-side though. For starters, I feel like a completely different person. I have so much more brain space, I feel productive and creative and like an actual human again. I can hug my husband without a four kilo lump in the way. I can put on my shoes without almost dying. My three year old gets to squish my tummy and tell me it’s just like dough. And of course, a healthy, happy baby.
So much goodness.
Now week one is over, and slowly the newborn-fog will start to lift. I might start replying to messages in a timely manner soon, or even brave the outside with all four of them. Sounds a little ambitious, really. To be honest, I’m sure you’ll find me here for the next month – holding a baby on the couch, wearing pyjamas and downing endless cups of coffee while the other three run wild.
There are worse ways to be.