There’s a little boy asleep on my bed. Unfortunately it is in a position I’ll have to move him from; its a tad difficult to hop into bed when you’ve got an infant starfished out in the middle of it, on top of the duvet. But he is asleep, snoring his little heart out, smiling with one eye a tiny bit open like always, as if he will miss something if he closes both eyes and surrenders to sleep entirely.
He’s had an eventful week, Mama has gone from spending her every waking (and sleeping) hour with him, to spending a lot less of the waking ones there, instead leaving him for a day in work. On top of this, he’s had not one, not two, but three injections into his chubby little legs, administered by the smiling woman wielding a syringe (and a toy syringe in an attempt to distract him). As if that wasn’t enough, a tooth has erupted up through his gum and has a neighbour almost there right beside it – and nobody seems to understand just how tough it is, being six months old.
I’m incredibly glad he’s asleep, even if it does mean my duvet is out of bounds at the moment. Normally his response to vaccinations is disrupted sleep, often for weeks, but he seems totally fine today, my brave boy. Despite grumbling angrily after a short crying spell and shooting the nurse a look that could kill, he was back smiling that flirty smile by the time we got back out to the reception of the surgery to the receptionist, not ten minutes later. Regardless of any woes he has encountered over the week, boy has his priorities, and charming the world is high up there. It is something he does well, and to top it all, he knows it.
As for Mama, it’s been two weeks of major change too. Back to work means settling back into the old routines but with new priorities; any crappiness incurred during the day can be fixed by a cheeky smile and a cuddle once I get home, it doesn’t impact on me as much anymore. The first week was a sleep deprived mess; E did not take well to my abandonment of him for the workplace, and despite him having fun during the day, he craved the comfort of ensuring Mammy was there all night; refusing to sleep until almost midnight and waking numerous times. We found it easier to co-sleep, it meant we all got some sleep instead of none, and lessened the chance of me falling asleep at my desk. My resolve to make it to the gym before work did get dented a bit – probably for the best, I’ve heard falling asleep on a moving treadmill doesn’t end well. This week I’m settling into more of a routine, with a certain amount of time off available to me due to accrued holidays, it’s easier to enter into a gradual routine and it has helped with the sleep issue, greatly. Despite an initial day of absolute hell on my first day off with him (think screaming teething baby all day, lashing rain, interfering old biddy criticising me and a paid doctors appointment just to be told he’s teething), I’ve really enjoyed my days off with him, and he seems to be enjoying them with me instead of enduring boring old Mammy who he sees all day anyway. This, and being able to drink a whole cup of tea still hot, are going a long way at improving my sanity levels.
My little man is growing up. He’s six and a half months old, one tooth almost there and a second on the way, mad to stand up and get moving, pushing off tiny bits of everything that makes him my baby everyday. I come home each day and something has changed, he’s discovered something new, or grown more hair, more teeth, more height… Sometimes I’m afraid I’ll blink and miss things, it’s going so fast.
So for now, I’m happy to let the sleeping baby lie, taking over my duvet. This too shall pass, like the teething, tantrums and bad days, but this I will look back on more fondly.