When the paternity leave is over…


Lynz’s paternity leave was over before we knew it – and before we had time to fully adjust to being a family of six (six!). During her time off, we managed to register tiny human R-M, the fourth, and make her official. We also had a tubing party for our biggest girls sixth birthday, celebrated our two-year-old’s birthday, had a few trips to the hospital (with dreaded catheter stuff), had family visit from the north and our tiny human got to have cuddles from our lovely friends who have been so kind bringing gifts and food to keep us going! As you can imagine life has been hectic… I definitely feel the need to come up for air.

Thankfully, I also had the most relaxing week on my own with just the new addition while our beautiful, helpful friends organised pick up and drop off for the bigger kiddies. I spent time getting to know our tiniest human in our lovely home. It was bliss. I can’t lie. It made me think how easy it would be with one child… Not that I found having one child easy. Oh no. First time around it was stressful and time consuming. Then you have more children and realise, actually, it was me that made it difficult!

This week though, it’s me on the school run. Driving and pretty much pretending to the world, and myself, that I didn’t just have a baby 25 days ago and instead, that I am super woman… when deep down I’m still riding that rollercoaster in the fog and feeling like it’s a one way ticket.

In the mornings there is at least one person crying. I’ve come to accept that. I’ve also got used to the baby crying for milk while I sort breakfast for the kiddies. There’s always a change of clothes needed after feeding right when we need to leave for the school run and, this morning, I felt a wet patch on my top and jeans and thinking it was probably leaking breast milk – only to find it was actually leaking poo. Nothing a baby wipe wouldn’t sort, though eh? (It’s grim isn’t it). Thing is, I don’t even care too much. I’m still wearing the same clothes now a few hours later. #livingmybestlife

I went to the shop and bought toddler nappies, newborn nappies, eight packs of wet wipes and two boxes of tissues. The checkout assistant asked if I was doing anything nice today. Oh, how I laughed inside: “No! Just using all of this!” As I stood there in my soiled outfit.

Thankfully, it’s a Tuesday and two days a week, I still only have the tiny human as company while the toddler is in nursery. But today I got the dreaded call. The nursery ID flashed up and I felt my stomach turn. Yup. Toddler human is ill and needs to come home and right there and then, I felt like the worst mum in the world. I cried, not because I was worried about her, but because I was so tired I could sleep standing up and this meant no sleep. Turns out the poor girl has chicken pox. (The pox hit the house with a three-week-old baby!) And so, here I am, Googling passive immunity and hoping the toddler doesn’t pass it on…

So, I began the week feeling like a hero – but it’s gone rapidly downhill in 24 hours. I keep telling myself it’s early days and things will get easier, half believing it, half annoyed at myself for talking crap.

To sum up this chapter, thank goodness she is so cute (and so very much worth the trouble).


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