Month One:
So small, so perfect, so fragile… Yes. Take a moment to remember your vagina the way it was. Then re-grow all your pubic hair to form a secret forest around it, destroy every handheld mirror in the land, and NEVER THINK ABOUT IT AGAIN.
Once that’s done, your first few weeks are spent trying to drown out the 4,000 comments a day you get about how fast it goes, pretending breastfeeding doesn’t hurt, and rediscovering wine…
Month Two:
Ok you’re EXHAUSTED but you can do this. You’ve totally got this parenting shit down. You’ve joined every baby class in the county and your main plan is to baby-sign-the-sensory-baby-massaging-f@*k out of your newborn… (If you could only stop them shitting all over themselves, the pram and your only remaining clean pair of leggings every time you try to leave the house that is.) …But still. YOU GOT THIS. Who needs 8-hours sleep and a perfect prep machine anyway right?!
Month Three:
You buy a perfect prep machine.
And Ewan the C@*ting Dream Sheep. Along with anything else that Amazon and the Internet tells you to. At 3am. Whilst crying.
THEN. Suddenly. One night. Your baby actually sleeps for 5-hours straight. This is amazing. You’re a new woman. You’re so excited you don’t call your husband a penis-wielding-voodoo-bastard that night. You instead plaster your new magic-sleeping-baby news all over Facebook. With a smug emoticon. And begin planning a city break. Which… means you JINX YOURSELF FOR LIFE…. As every day from that point they’ve mainly been surviving on 45 minutes sleep a night. And the sound of you gently sobbing into a crusty muslin that’s been on your shoulder since Tuesday.
Month Four:
You used the Bumbo on the coffee table. (You fucking rebel) Although in between not sleeping that week whilst propped up in a nursing chair freezing one breast off at 4am, you also didn’t sleep due to the BPG (Bumbo-Placement-Guilt) so it probably wasn’t worth it…
You try to sell the Bumbo on a Facebook selling site, but the experience is so horrendous you nearly murder someone who continuously calls you ‘hun’ and decide to just punch yourself in the fucking face next time.
Month Five:
Jumperoo. That is all.
Month Six:
Please remove any nice things from your life as weaning means the end of those now. In fact – why not cut out the middle man, and begin hurling regurgitated broccoli and sweet potato at your own face and sofa. Perhaps some will trickle down your forehead into your mouth whilst still warm and you can count it as your first hot meal since you had a baby. Excellent.
Month Seven:
You’ve made it. You’ve survived the first six months. This calls for celebration. An epic night out with breast pads, Spanx, and a new found disrespect for your bladder… It was entirely amazing. Until 40 seconds after you got in; when you knew you’d be spending your impending hangover trying not to gag tequila into the face of your baby whilst desperately Googling ‘breastfeeding after drinking A FUCK TON of alcohol’ and punching Ewan the Dream Sheep in his stupid twatty face.
Month Eight:
It’s dawning on you that you’re still in your maternity jeggings. And that breastfeeding somehow hasn’t sucked you into a size-8… but it’s ok, because to make you feel better about that – you eat an entire cake without breathing and/or chewing. Which makes you feel sad and start poking your stretch marks. So you manage that with a Toblerone and some gin. The end. #ginwin
Month Nine:
Shit. It’s started moving. Cafes aren’t for you anymore. You should know that. #beginningoftheend
Month Ten:
You’ve discovered the power of CBeebies… But your shame crush on Mr Bloom may be getting out of hand… Heading to the toilet to watch CBeebies on the iPad ‘one-handed’ is just not motherly behaviour. *coughs*
(but seriously; if you make it in to the loo alone – down a toffee crisp and tweet about it so the rest of us have hope… please…PLEASE.)
Month Eleven:
The Jumperoo doesn’t work anymore. And Facebook is NOTHING BUT LIES. And, if you’re going back to work you’re going to have to face the fact that you’ll need to brush your hair and wear a real bra again soon… Shit.
Month Twelve:
So your ‘tiny baby’ is suddenly capable of head butting you in the area-formally-known-as-your-vagina, capturing the footage on your iPhone and uploading it to their own YouTube channel… but the main thing is that you tell everyone 4,000 times a day how fast it’s gone, you’ve forgotten that breast-feeding ever hurt and wine…. Mainly wine. And wine.
#12monthsofbabydone
#ginwinetheend
That just about sums it up. Bumbo guilt – i feel it.
ReplyHa 😉 we all do!
Reply8 weeks in and this has made me cry with laughter. Fab fab post!
ReplyAww thanks lovely xxx
ReplyMid bumbo guilt glass of wine, looking forward to jumperoo month. Could have done with the neglecteroo whilst trying to pack to move house though!
ReplyHa 😉 it is the best stage!!! #ringofneglect
ReplyAll true … I am a normal Mummy too!!
ReplyHa 😉 welcome to the club sweetie! Xxx
ReplyFirst time penis-wielding-voodoo-bastard here! Brilliant blog, made me laugh out loud a lot. We had kodie the bastard bear in our house! 9 months in and still here, just!
ReplyPahahaha 😉 congratulations on making it this far! Lol
ReplyThis is the most true thing I have ever read about being a mum in the first year and I’ve done it 9 times….. Almost exactly completely true (except for the crush on Mr Bloom- I didn’t go that low!!)xx
ReplyWow! 9 times – you’re the most qualified person that’s ever commented on my blog. Ever. 🙂 lol xxx
ReplyThe only time my husband and I ever had a frisky moment in the first year it was on the sofa near the jumperoo, and at the crucial moment he kicked it and it set off the merry little jungle tune that finishes with the trumpeting elephant. I think that scarred us more than having kids. That tune still makes me snigger. Brilliant writing by the way. “Hun”.
ReplyAhahahaha! Too funny! Xxx
ReplyMummy hood is all consuming, especially when you commit to breastfeeding but worth every second,I wouldn’t change a thing…..I’m currently going through the terrible 3’s with my youngest and awaiting the birth of my second grandchild….and so it begins again! Xxx
ReplySo funny punching Ewan the dream sheep in his twatty face mad me chuckle! X
ReplyHeehee! Thank you lovely xxx
ReplyBrilliant. I read this while drinking a cup of tea microwaved for second time and spluttered at the “hun” bit. Six months in although it’s threenager firstborn doing my head in this morning.
ReplyLol xx mine has just upgraded to a 4-yr old. It’s way better. Should of just got me one of them from the beginning tbh… Lol xx
ReplyCan’t stop laughing at Facebook ‘Hun’. And what’s with the kisses. One polite reply and they’re all xoxoxoxoxoxoxox 🙂
ReplyI know right!! Lol x
ReplyMy daughter never took to a Bumbo as she started crawling ridiculously early. I’m intrigued by the coffee table part!
ReplyBtw, thank you for your candour. It’s so refreshing to hear a mother say it like it is rather than cover up the fact that there are shitty days, and far too many things you drag yourself to when you could be in spending a day off like a childless person: watching shitty daytime tv and taking a nap in the middle of the day because freedom is so taxing! I still find interacting with mother’s like a minefield because of the way they look like they’re on the brink of breakdown but everything is ‘all worth it’ GOD DAMMIT. Maybe it’s just me…
ReplyLol x thanks lovely!! The other day I actually managed a nap… I felt like I’d had a week’s worth of sleep! Until my children came home and starting punching me in the tit and demanding Pom Bears again that is…. Lol xx
ReplyThis is brilliant, particularly the part about selling on Facebook. I feel better knowing I’m not the only person who wants to punch people…
ReplyHa 😉 I don’t know where the people who are on those sites all come from! Lol xxx thanks for the comment xx
Reply‘penis-wielding-voodoo-bastard’ … What has he been doing?
ReplyExcellent and extremely funny post. Love it.
X
Just the impregnating thing… You know… I mean I know it was a joint effort but still… Lol 😉
ReplyAh I see. Yeah totally with you… Us utter voodoo bastards. X
ReplySo, so funny. My boy is 6 now but I can still totally relate to all you’ve said. I wish your blog had been around when he was a baby, I might have laughed more than crying 🙂
Replyhaha 😉 thank you lovely xxx
Replythe only bit you missed out in this is the “fantasizing the various ways that you could dismember your partner while they sleep through your baby crying. again.” part… other than that.. laughed so hard that my completely fucked pelvic floor, let out a little bit of pee… nice work (shall promptly change underwear now..) 🙂 x
Replyhaha! yes that too 😉 xx
ReplyThis is fucking hilarious, the best thing I have read in the last 12 months and everything is so accurate. Wish I had just read this while I was pregnant. I’m about to share this with all my mummy friends! Thank you for making me weep from laughter and not tiredness for once!
Replylol! Well thank you 🙂 *does a little bow*
Replybrilliant! Month 9 is ridiculously true – I think I ate an entire large pizza and cake after feeling sorry for myself that breastfeeding hasn’t made me skinny either
Replyi hear you sister! xx *downs pizza-cake*
ReplyThis made me chuckle my baby is 5 months old tomorrow and we are off out to buy a jumparoo!!! I have also placed baby in the bumbo on the table……
ReplyThe jumperoo will change your life! lol xx
ReplyI’m pregnant with my second and I’d put the first year at the back of my mind…thanks for the reminder 😉
Replylol 😉 happy to be of service :))) *does a little bow*
ReplyMonth 10, proper lol!
ReplyHeehee 😉
ReplyDone all of the above four times. All male (toilets. Enough.said). Now got a pink granddaughter. She is adorable at over two, but was a shockingly miserable baby. NEWSFLASH. Having crossed off the days till ‘Jumperoo’, reading Amazon reviews to keep us going, baby girl fucking hated Jumperoo. FML X
ReplyOh no! Lol! That must of been soul destroying….
ReplySuper mega funny! Need everybody I know to read this x
ReplyHeehee! Thank you xxx
ReplyF*#king hilarious high five for telling it like it is!!
ReplyI’ve two of them! Identical surprise twins now 16 months but prem with 17 year age gap since last daughter! Work is a break…even for
ReplyNHS! I wish my 16 month year olds would walk now as mummy cannot lift/carry/push them very much longer!!!! Xxx 😉 I love them but I’m knackered
Wow you deserve a medal lady! I do not know how people do it with twins 😉 sending you all the wine! Lol xx
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