|This is the face I've had to look at for the|
better part of two months!
Anyway, on with the story!
Juffin says no sweat. Of course he does. As if he'd say no. The Mushroom has routinely taken bottles off of various other people, MIL, my Dad, my sister, no problems whatsoever, so I'm not worried. I am getting excited at the prospect of some unchecked drinking and adult conversation. I vow to not talk about the Mushroom all night.
Things go off without much of a hitch. In the end I put the Mushroom to bed then take off. It's a little later than we had planned, but whatever, freedom! I'm wearing red lipstick and flat shoes, I'm ready to get my mojito on, woo woo! We get to the mexican restaurant and the place is heaving. Miraculously we are able to find two seats adjacent to the bar and get served immediately. I'm so glad to be drinking again that the first one disappears in mere seconds.
Around 10.30 we leave the restaurant and I get a sinking feeling when I read a text message saying 'I don't know babe, I feel really sick'. What do you mean sick?! How sick? What the hell is going on as you were bloody fine when I left the house less than four hours ago?! I get a phonecall, the Mushroom won't settle, won't drink a bottle and the Juffin has a migraine. He stupidly took some drugs to cure said migraine but then realised that they will probably knock him out and he won't hear the Mushroom if he wakes up again. He is still awake now. At 10.45 at night. I grit my teeth and ask if he wants me to come home, he says yes.
I ask the taxi driver to wait at my friends place while I go inside and get my stuff. I'm so annoyed right now that I have no words. I get home and it takes me two hours to settle our son as he is wanting comfort from me and I'm unable to give it in the form of a breastfeed. I can't believe that this has where my night has ended up, me at home holding my screaming child and listening to the Juffin throwing up in the toilet. I'm supposed to be the one with my head in the toilet! I've been well and truly shafted.
Three days later, I'm still feeling a bit ripped off. Whilst Juffin is extremely remorseful (it's not like he wanted to get a migraine) I still don't think he understands the sheer frustration, exhaustion and emotional toll that motherhood has taken on me. I needed that night out. I need time away from them both so I can love them more when I'm here. I've always been a person who needs alone time. Time to read, to eat popcorn in my underwear, to write, to lay and do nothing, and since the Mushroom was born I have not been alone for more than 2 hours. I don't think that anything could have prepared me for that fact before I became a mother. People tell you but the reality has much more impact.
Where do we go from here? My resentment is waning but I'm still annoyed. I vow to try again and am now enforcing one bottle feed with expressed breast milk every few days from his father. More hands on is required. As for the screaming, one can only blame teething for so long! If it continues I think I'll seek some medical attention. That or start injecting heroin.
*This really goes without saying but I would never leave the Mushroom out on the lawn. At least not near the bins.
I have a roof over my head (being held up by a mountain of washing), my health and a few bucks in the bank. I shouldn't complain. I know that there are people out there with actual real problems. The breastfeeding and baby stage won't last forever and I am trying my darndest to rise above. Forgive me my stupid humour. It's a coping mechanism. My mantra at the moment: Be assertive, this too shall pass!
Onwards and upwards!!