Sleeping Like A Baby

Hiya, 

And so, a week on from Dublin and Southern Ireland's trip ending, the holiday blues have set in and already I am desperate to start planning another holiday, especially with work friends (I say friends with some people in mind being the loosest of such) off to France and Italy in the months and one colleague in Paris at the moment. Yes I am severely jealous and I don't care! I suppose I would have had to end up learning to drive at some point, I do not really fancy being a bus-wanker for the rest of my days on this earth! And besides, at least then I could bundle Mr. Warehouse and his puppy into the car of a Sunday afternoon and go out for the day, seaside's, forests and day trips all at our disposal once I can drive! But sadly for that to happen I shall have to sacrifice a few holidays in order for that to happen. 

Getting back to public-transport-hostage life as it is now though, this weekend itself has been relatively hum-drum and between finishing work on Friday and returning to my desk it has been spent mostly in a onesie and with puppy cuddles at Momma Warehouse's home in Marston Mortaine. A few countryside walks and lots of snacking was just the way I wanted to spend my weekend before pay-day when I am too broke to pay for life! One thing that did brighten my day was looking after Mr. Warehouse's youngest nephew. At a little over eighteen-months old he is probably, no, certainly the most adorable thing you have ever seen and his impression of an elephant is something to behold! 

Now most of you that know me on a personal level will say that I am not a maternal person in any sense of the word - I mean seriously where would I have got it from even if I did have some?! In fact my lack of nurturing instinct is a constant running joke with Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb and in all fairness next to them I would be the first one to throw my hands up in the air and run away from any interaction with small children and babies. In fact I recoil in horror when someone offers me up their new born and expects some sort of compliment in return for their swarking red bundle of scream and poop. Quite frankly most babies to me all look the same and whilst I would like to say that there is a definitive answer and to agree with the rest of the broody women in the room that "Yes he has got your great grandad's nose" I just cant see it and refuse to tell all newborns apart. 

I think of the idea of children is a good one, you know, keep the world going with new generations and all and also I suppose sex is good for making you happy and keeping you thin (Obviously not having enough sex at present since I have gained several pounds in the last month - Mental note to make more effort in the Bedroom department) although for me the idea of children, my own especially, is that they pop out at around six months old, cute and fat with not bloody guts and gunk on them from labour and with a cheeky few words or actions in their remit. Unfortunately I doubt motherhood is like that, but I suppose there is always adoption ... I joke, I joke!

But anyway, I digress, So here Mr. Warehouse and I are, looking after little baby (*insert cute elephant noise from said toddler*) and soon enough its time to say goodbye to his Mommy and Daddy as they were off out for a nice meal whilst we babysat. 
As I started to distract Baby with yet another round of 'This Little Piggy ... ', the phrase "Cuddles Dadda" were asked for a more than a few times before Mommy and Daddy made a quick getaway to the car. Now this got me thinking, if I was in their shoes - Could I put my son down and leave him whilst I went out for a meal?! The direct answer is yes, and of course, maybe rather harshly, I would jump at a chance. Having a normal adult conversation that doesn't centre around Iggle-Piggle and not having to make air-plane/choo-choo noises to eat something with a spoon or fork would be the idea of parental bliss, something childless-me probably takes for granted along with lay-in's and nights out on the lash! 

A few mind-numbingly unbearable moments of In The Night Garden later, Mr. Warehouse and I decided it was time for bed and strangely letting me take charge I was instructed to take Baby upstairs, give him his bottle and read him a couple of stories before switching on a calming night-light and leaving the room. Doing it by the book and reading some informative stories of how three little kittens like to have their bedtime routine, it was time to leave the room and let the baby cry it out. Feeling awful I knew that Mr. Warehouse felt worse just by the look on his face. Mr. Warehouse's Baby Nephew had only just learned to try and say his name (after smashing mine first go a few weeks ago) and now all he kept crying and screaming from his little box room was for his Uncle's Cuddles. Heartbreaking as that was we needed to give Baby time to self soothe. Seven-minutes of sitting with the TV on mute, watching on the baby monitor this little sleeping bag of fury roll and screech around the cot I took it upon myself to go back in. Scooping the little monster into my arms I panicked, alone and unequipped in a dark room, Mr. Warehouse had chose to stay downstairs. As I took a seat on the edge of the rocking chair and gently rocked back and fourth, soothing Baby with my Shh's and letting him drink from the bottle again he was soon dozing off to sleep. grizzling a few times as I went to put him down in the cot I rocked him again until he was eventually on his one-way train to the land of nod. 

Quietly slipping down the stairs I felt like a new Mom, weird I know. But what was weirder was that a few moments later I was brought to tears as Mr. Warehouse congratulated me and thanked me for being able to deal with the situation and succeeding in putting my first baby to sleep ever. Thinking about my lack of role model I could feel myself welling up inside and even before my beloved boyfriend had the chance to second that I would make a fantastic mother, hot salty tears were streaming my cheeks. Feeling silly he pulled me in for a cuddle and we spent the rest of the night in a "lets pretend we're parents" style, although without all the nappy changing, toe-stubbing baby toys and milky-sick duties. 

Relieved to be back to my normal one-bedroom flat of untidiness and chaos, I am glad that I did not, like many, many of my friends, have children early as I think I would have more than regretted it in the long run. Right now I am happy to be a cool 'Cuz' to my three boisterous cousins and to Mr. Warehouses Niece and Nephews I can be the equally cool 'Uncles Girlfriend', despite being constantly referred to as Aunty on more than one occasion! 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx