Pressing pause on chores

Thursday 09 June 2016

Next week our little man will be four months old and every time another month rolls around I find myself wondering where the time is disappearing to. Everyone pre-warned me about how time flies with a little one, but somewhere in amongst all the (un)helpful advice I got (“ooooh you think you’re tired now, wait until the baby is here”) I blocked out the one piece of insight I wish I’d clung to. Time passes by too quickly. 

This week I found myself getting teary over his 0-3 month clothes. Post baby this now happens to me more often anyway (watching one born every minute is now an impossibility without a box of tissues) but holding up the tiny sleepsuit we bought him home from the hospital in and realising he will never be that small again made me wish I’d clung onto him a bit more in his early weeks. 

For some reason, despite the knackering nine months of pregnancy and the trauma of birth that followed, I found myself  feeling guilty over not getting things done around the house when Mark went back to work. Despite Mark insisting that days without him were reserved solely for baby cuddles I found myself racing to put our little man down every time he dozed off in my arms so that I could tidy the kitchen, get a wash on or make the bed. Now if I try and cradle my determined little guy he turns into a tiny wrestler, limbs flailing all over the place and ab crunching in a desperate attempt to sit himself up. 

The combination of his new dislike for mummy cuddles and the fact he’s now almost doubled in size makes it easy to get emotional. There’s not many decisions we’ve made as parents that I regret but not spending every second I possibly could clinging onto my tiny newborn is one thing I wish I could go back and undo. Unfortunately it took me a little too long to realise a little too late that I have all the time in the world to clean the house (there’s no room to be houseproud with a baby)  and much less to take advantage of the fact that today my baby boy is the smallest he will ever be again.

So here’s to embracing the mess, never having any clean clothes but being ridiculously, deliriously happy that I still have plenty of time left at home to play with my baby boy… Even if he already thinks he’s too big for cuddles!