My baby is one month old today! How did that even happen? Time is such an unforgiving thief isn’t it?
It should be noted that we’ve all actually survived an entire month. Kudos to us. This also means I have been in a serious relationship with Netflix for almost the same amount of time.
Mango is a solid little delight. He is doing his newborn thing and charming everyone that comes into his realm, even the baby haters (okay I don’t actually know anyone who hates babies). It’s fair to say I breed them cute. Wanna look?
He is absolutely basking in all my milky goodness. If I don’t breed them cute, I sure breed them hungry! We know how to eat here and lets be honest, there is just so much booby milk he either gulps or drowns. It’s one of the nicer breastfeeding horrors to have I suspect. At his last maternal health nurse check up nearly two weeks ago, he weighed in just over 5 kilograms ALREADY! He fits into three month old clothes. I say that with both pride and a fair smack of bitterness for I fear my newborn is being taken over by chub and seemingly getting older before his time. What happened to me getting an itty bitty one?(I know, you’re thinking he looks pretty itty bitty here right? But that is a big one!)
The frequency of feeds and lack of sleep has not improved. Let’s hope Mango is at least slurping all the calories right out of me. I suspect my gut will be wobbly jelly and then set like concrete very soon from the amount of eating I am doing to support this little guys demands. Lucky I’m stuck in mombie mode enough to not really care that much about vanity but I did take this post baby selfie. I was trying to knock off one of those glamorous Pinterest scenarios were there’s the before baby and post baby image.
Can I just say, it is not easy holding a newborn and taking a selfie and yes, that is totally baby vom down my side. I thought about changing and then I though f*@#k it! This space is about keeping it real, right? So baby vom ya get. It’s what all the newbie mums are wearing anyway. Let us just celebrate the fact that I am out of my pajamas (it was a winning kinda day).
My little gut is still pretty sticky outtie but I expect nothing less for the next twelve months or so. My post baby bump is always lingering and given I have Diastasis, it’s going to take some serious work. For those of you who have not had their abs stretched to the shizzies yet through pregnancy or who was lucky enough to stretch gracefully, Diastasis is when the abdominal muscles separate from the pressure of a growing bump. What a thoughtful reward for enduring nine months of pregnancy! Anyways, I’m off to the physio in a couple of weeks to get some advice about how to zip me up again safely.
As the weeks go by, a little more calm inches over the household. Perhaps it’s just the chaos is starting to feel more homely, more normal. I dunno, but the Vicklets seem to be settling into their roles as big brothers and accepting that I am not the mum they had just a few weeks ago. I am less available and sure as heck a whole lot less fun. Come nights I feel a pang of guilt for being the grumpiest of the grumps. My tolerance towards the older Vicklets is zilch. Diddly squat. Nada and just hearing myself, I hate zee-self. I am way too craaaanky! I wish I was playing it a bit cooler because naturally I want to win at this motherhood game from every angle. I guess it’ll happen, all in good time.