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Today is the day, the day I’ve been slightly dreading. Today I am left in charge of a baby. Solo. All by myself. Lonesome Larry.
How did this sneak up so quickly? I’ve only had seven weeks to prepare, it wasn’t enough! Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been left with Isaac before, but never longer than a few hours. Nick went back to work when he was a week and a half, in a part-time capacity. We are also lucky enough to live with his parents (millennials eh?), so Isaac is never really without Nanny or Pops. This has been amazing for me, when I need to eat, shower, or use the toilet, there’s always an adoring grandparent to help with the cuddles.
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But today is different, Nanny and Pops are away for the weekend, and dad has a full day of appointments. This leaves me, little old me with Isaac. But, as I said, I’m prepared. I’ve learned how to do everything with only one hand, I’m able to pee very quickly and I can now eat in minutes – “You can tell you are new parents!” My friend joked when we met for a tea and lunch last week, and its true, gone are the days of being the last one at the table to finish eating when the little man is getting fussy for his own food. Not only that, but I’m a pro at changing nappies, having quickly learned that speed changing equates to no pee on mum, or baby (god he can spray), or the carpet!
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It all started so well, Isaac and I sleep until 9.30. A lie in. Must be a great omen for how today is going to go. After a change and a feed, Isaac is tired again. I successfully manage to move him from my arms to his crib without waking him – This is a risk, we have only been trying to get him used to being in his crib during the day for the last few weeks. It works approx. 30% of the time, more often his little eyes open, seemingly saying “You thought you had tricked me, think again mummy”, or colic rears its evil head (more on that horror show another time).
I go get some breakfast and make a cup of tea, “I’ve nailed this!” I foolishly think to myself. I’m going to clean the bathroom whilst he’s down, taking the laptop in so I can watch some Doctor Who whilst I clean. I hear a cry on the monitor and head to see the little man, who is now wide awake and crying. Proud that I managed half an hour of baby free arms and fed myself, I scoop him up for some cuddles with lots of bounces.
The next four hours are a combination of the following in repeat; feed, rock, shush, lay down, cry. At some point, I realise my tea is cold. At another I curse myself for leaving my laptop in the bathroom, it’s too clumsy to carry with one hand (baby firmly glued to the other) and I need a distraction from all the rocking and crying. I had planned to take Isaac for a walk today as I’m trying to hit my step target, I think pacing the room for hours is getting me close though.
I contemplate having a cry and acknowledge how pointless that would be. His dad phones at some point:
” Hows your day going?”
“…… yeah, it’s ok.”
“Hows Isaac?”
“…… yeah, he’s ok.”
The call is cut short by the little man crying. It’s all ok I think to myself, perseverance is key, one of these feeds will lull him to the deep sleep he wants and desperately needs. It feels like days, my back hurts, my spaghetti arms are limp, the little man is looking at me like he is begging for sleep – the colic can’t hurt when he sleeps.
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I’ve made it to 2.30pm, I still have my sanity and Isaac falls asleep deep enough that I can pop him in his little bouncer chair (similar) in the kitchen. Success! Its time for some lunch, and a well needed warm cuppa. Watching him sleep I think about how perfect he is, god I love him.
… I can’t wait for him to wake up so I can have cuddles
…. I want to brush my teeth
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