Three months later

Newsflash! Being a mum is exhausting. What, you knew that already? Why didn’t you tell me?! Oh yeah, that’s right, you did.


Little Vic (as he’s affectionately known – see also ‘Little’, ‘Baby Vic’, ‘Boo Boo’ and ‘Victor John’) is a lovely wee soul. He is joyful in the morning and cranky in the evening. He loves it when I poke out my tongue and loves being sung to so much that he doesn’t give a toss if the singing is out of tune.


He hates tummy time due to being weighed down by his rather large head, and as a result he’s establishing quite the flat spot on the back of his head. He loves kicking his little legs, and swinging his little arms, and his smiles and coos pretty much light up my world.


His crying, however, does not.


I’m not going to complain about the crappy times, at least not in this entry, because the good times are the important bits.


I’m enjoying my new role as a mum, but not so crazy about my new role as housekeeper. I feel like my days revolve around picking stuff up, wiping surfaces down, hanging things out to dry… When I’m not doing that I’m having baby-voice conversations with a three-month-old that mostly involve questions. Do you want to go in your bouncinette? Are you hungry? Are you? Are you hungry? How about some tummy time? Oh, you don’t like that? Are you sleepy? Are you?




I don’t even know myself anymore. You’re very much thrown in the deep end when you become a mum. It’s not exactly a gradual easing into things, y’know? One minute you’re lazing about on the couch eating donuts, responsible only for your own wants and needs. Next thing you know there’s this tiny little creature in your face, flailing its wee arms and legs about, demanding all  your physical, emotional and mental attention. It empties your bank account, turns you into a zombie, right-royally screws up your body for a bit, and takes you to the very end of yourself in the wee hours of the morning.


But oh the love. All the cheesy cliches are true. There is no love like it.


Happy three months Boo Boo – the very best three months of my life so far.


12 thoughts on “Three months later

  1. Squee! Such a cutiepie. My husband describes parenthood in the best way possible with one word: Relentless. I think that about sums it up! Congrats on making it so far. He’ll take longer to sit up by himself if you don’t persevere with tummy time but no doubt you’ll doing an outstanding job. The crying soon becomes part of the background noise (it’s usually Dad that have the biggest issues with it).

      1. I’m f’ing things up all over the place too!! But do it with a smile on your face (even if it’s pretend somedays) and the “journey” isn’t half so bad 🙂

  2. They should come with an instruction manual. However, like the rest of us, you just make it up as you go along. So long as everyone survives, then you haven’t f’ed it up. 🙂

    Also, don’t forget to take plenty of embarrassing photos for use on their 21st. :-p

  3. Picking stuff up – it never stops till they leave home…….and we all stuff things up. You’re not alone with that feeling.

  4. After pretending that I was capable of handling a newborn and maintaining the domestic duties of the household I finally recognised I wasn’t, and not only was I doing a rubbish job at keeping things clean it was stressing me stupid so despite the budget really not allowing for it I went back to getting the house cleaned when she was 6 months old. My god what a relief. Sure, it meant I wasn’t as capable as about 99.9% of the rest of the female population at home raising families but I figured I could live with that failing much easier than I could the stress!

    Parenthood is definitely relentless, but as long as you can still find enough good to outweigh the bad then you’ll survive it just fine.

    1. Everybody pretends they are capable of all that. It’s probably only the 0.01% that truely ARE 😉
      As long as baby is looked after, mum is looked after, and the house is basically hygenic (not necessarily tidy), then you’re doing fine. Real friends don’t mind if the house is a bit of a mess. They’re the ones who’ll pop around with a precooked cassarole, make you a cuppa, and fold your washing while having a catch-up gossip. 😀

  5. Happy 3 months Little Vic! And congrats on surviving thus far Jane, I’m still doing the lying on the couch eating donuts thing, you’re a far far braver woman than me.

    PS, still can’t get used to you with long hair Jane!

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