So what on earth has happened to me!?
Nowadays I thrive on burps and belches, and look forward to
poops in the nappy. Today my biggest challenge is to find an outfit to put on in
the morning. (Not my outfit, oh no! I wear the same jumper every day. I am
talking about the “little monkey” body suits for my son.) There is an extra
person attached to me all the time and one of my arms has transformed into a
vacuum cleaner. I respond to all cries, shouts, pitches and laughs, dropping everything
and anything I am in the process of doing. My little prince has taken over my life and
at two months old He’s got me completely re-trained. As a Mother. I am His
pillow and His punch bag. I can’t remember what it’s like not to have back
ache.
When my husband comes back from work, he asks me about my
day. I hate those questions. It is deeply embarrassing when the biggest achievement
of your day is dinner served on time. Not burned... When he tells me about exciting
new deals and challenges at work, I desperately try to make the midwife’s visit
exciting. Oh yes, we talked about
nipples. While he puts a nice clean shirt on every morning, I realise that
mine permanently smells of vomit.
The most frightening of all is when he asks me an opinion.
To avoid the answer I stuff my mouth with so much food that I can’t talk
anymore. Which doesn’t really matter
because, whether I talk or not, I am a conversation killer.
However, naively or not, I still refuse to believe that having
a child has changed me. I am sure that the things that used to define me have
not disappeared. Hopefully they are just hiding in the shadows of the changing
environment. And, even if it feels like I have donated my brain to the child, I
hope that one day I will be able to spell “coleegue” again.
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