You know it’s going to be the start of a rough week when your baby has a turd in the bath. There was me like, "oooh look at you making bubbles in the bath". Nope, that would be a big turd. As well as bath-time memories to treasure this week, (one for Rafe's 18th!) we’ve had sleepless nights – TEETHING and Rafe's decided he can’t self-settle anymore. Oh and how can I forget? Absolute nap refusal`s to the point I actually walked almost 8 miles one day to get him to sleep. Did he sleep? Nope. He had ten minute`s nap all day. Send help. And wine. And tequila. And stock up that biscuit tin.
So the poo in the bath was probably quite a highlight of the week to be honest. It’s been a bit of a challenge. The poor champ still has a bit of a cough that keeps him up at night and we are full blown teething at the moment. His cheeks are so red and like clockwork he wakes up between 10-11pm and screams and has his fingers in his mouth. Feel so so sorry for him. Nursing more seems to comfort him – and Calpol the champion of champions (all hail calpol). So I’m walking around with toothpicks in my eyelids at the moment. Rafe just wants the boobs or a cuddle to fall asleep so self-settling has gone out the window. Which is understandable and I love a cuddle but I think I’ve reached the stage of being so exhausted I don’t know any different. Like an actual walking zombie, with dry shampoo in her hair and questionable facial hair.
Speaking of facial hair. This week I thought I really need to sort myself out. I looked in the mirror the other day and I looked like a caricature of a sleep-deprived mum. I hadn’t washed my hair in days. My maternity tracky b's had Rafe's breakfast on them, I had on my well-supported nursing tops (ha) and my husband’s hoody. I literally looked a mess. And it was so hot outside and I had major sweaty under boob. So I had a word. Again. I’ve decided that I am going to try and not look like the bird lady from Home Alone 2 every day and I was going to try and make more of an effort. Don’t get too excited – I won’t be glamming it up every day – I never did that before I had Rafe, never mind now. But I’ll brush my hair, put away the maternity leggings (the loves of my life), although I can’t quite ditch the nursing tops yet. As it’s been hot weather again, I realised I can’t sweat it out in a hoody, I even treated myself to a maxi skirt and a couple of new tops. I’m a new woman! I guess if I feel like I look half presentable, I will feel much better myself. I’m not quite going to be putting on the lippy everyday but I’ll give my hair a brush and keep the moustache at bay.
Naps. The fucking kryptonite. So it’s not like Rafe has ever been a good napper but this week he’s pretty much not napped at all. Not in the cot. Not in my arms. And not even in the pram. My go-to saviour when everything else has gone tits up. Normally he would take no more than 15 minutes to fall asleep in the pram but now it’s up to an hour an hour and a half. No joke. And it’s not like I’m missing the tiredness cues or that he’s not tired – or over-tired when I start to get him to nap. (Well I think anyway). I’ve literally been walking miles. I’ve been walking miles and miles a day to try and get him to sleep and no joy. I walked for almost 8 miles one day and he only had ten minutes. Ten whole minutes. (Not complaining as it`s been amazing weather and it saves me pretending I`m going to go for a run.) I also tried to get him to sleep in the cot but that’s just an epic in itself. I even tried to lie next to him on my bed to comfort him but he just kept hitting me in the face. I’m hoping this is just a phase. I guess I’ve just been plodding along hoping he will just miraculously nap well but maybe I need to try and do some kind of sleep training. Or push awake times as maybe he can stay awake longer. Who fucking knows. If anyone can offer any hope/miracle, I’m all ears.
I can’t believe Rafe is seven month’s old. Sometimes I can`t quite believe I have a son. I sometimes have to catch my breath as I just cant't believe how much I love the little tinker.
Rafe said his first words the other day. Well I say first words, I know he doesn’t know what he’s saying yet but he keep repeating “dada" which is literally the cutest thing in the world. (Say "mama" next please.) He`s coming on so much but is still refusing to roll over and lies flat when doing tummy time in protest. Proper little radgy pant some days – don’t know where he gets that from...
Hopefully next week I will be writing about how Rafe has become the nap King and has slept through the night. I live in hope! Enjoy the sun and the rest of the bank holiday weekend. It’s very different to when I used to go out on an all day sesh to Whitley Bay on a Bank Holiday Monday. Those where the days! Wouldn’t change it for the world but wouldn’t mind a few or 10 cold pints right now...
Royal Marine Wife. Mum to Rafe.