Sleepover

On Friday the Mushroom spent his first night away from his Mum and Dad. 

I was nervous, the Juffin was nervous, the MIL was nervous... Mushroom wasn't nervous cos he had no idea what was going on. 

Breastfeeding has proved overnight stays away from the Mushroom a little difficult up until now.  I stopped night feeds about six weeks ago when I realized that it was more habitual rather than actual hunger.  It took a few days but he's mostly sleeping through til about 5am now at which time I do feed him because settling at 5am is not up on my list of fun things to do.

Despite this little win, the last month or so has been pretty bad as teething has caused the little one an insurmountable amount of drama.  Men. 

All of this lead up is just my way of justifying having a night off.  It was the Juffin's birthday, I had managed to stockpile a little milk and we had booked the movie and bought some drinks.  It was happening.  A night off.  I don't know what I was more excited about, the movie, the drinks or the prospect of an uninterrupted night's sleep!

During the movie and all the way home, I didn't think too much about the Mushroom.  I mean we'd been out for dinner and a movie before, so that was nothing new.  It wasn't until we got home and I went into his little room that it hit me that he wasn't there!  It was such a strange feeling, like wanting him there and needing to rush off and pick him up but also thanking my lucky stars that he WASN'T there so we could have some much needed quality time (read sleep).  You feel guilty that you are loving your alone time but sort of wish you did this more often, then feel even guiltier!  You know what I mean?  Anyway, I managed to shake off the weird feeling and get on with it.  It helped that the Juffin received a text message from the MIL advising Mushy went to bed no worries, sleeping well now... hmmm. 

You can guess what happened next, a youngish couple, first night off in months, bourbons in hand, one thing led to another and... yep, you guessed it, nothing at all.  That's right.  Nothing.  I mean we had some dinner, talked a bit, had a few cuddles on the couch.  I had two drinks, total and was feeling awesome until I fell asleep on the couch and had to be dragged off to bed by an equally tired Juffin. 

Ahh, bed, sleeepppp.  Uninterrupted sleeepppppppp.  God I love sleep... Hang on, what the hell is this?  Why am I being shaken awake, what time is it, what the hell is going on?  Is Max ok?  It's still bloody dark outside.  I'm met with a douchebag, sorry, man, towering over me asking me where the headache tablets are.  Are you fucking serious?  Do I take headache tablets?  Did you not have some last week?  Where the hell did you leave them after you took them?  It is FOUR AM!  FOUR!  My first night off in 11 months and you wake me up because you have a headache and you can't find the headache tablets that you are the sole consumer of? There is no emergency with our son, just douchebaggery at it's finest. 

After that I toss and turn for three hours silently fuming and regretting my choice of life mate.  At 7ish I finally admit defeat and get up to watch the news.  I'm actually just biding time so I can go and pick up my less annoying, younger male family member.  It's strange not seeing his little face first thing and I'm really missing him now.  Especially considering I got no bloody sleep anyway so he could have just been here! 

When I get to MIL's.  Alone.  I'm to discover that my shitty sleeper is not so shitty after all. Lo and behold, the boy slept just fine at his grandparent's house.  He woke up once (!) or twice (!!) but settled straight away with a cuddle and back into bed.  When I do that he just starts screaming again when I put him down...  I then had to listen to a barrage of how awesome he is from MIL and basically that I must be overreacting or doing something wrong re the sleeping.... I won't get into it here but it was long, and annoying and I was annoyed and tired.  And in no mood to deal with it.  Especially considering that everyone in that room has had more sleep than me! 

As my MIL is talking Mushroom is climbing all over me and babbling away with a big cheesy grin on his face, so happy to see me.  I can imagine the inner monologue, "I'm so glad you're back Mum, I like your chest where the milk comes out, why don't you break those out?  Come on, break them out, break them out, break them out, whoa, what's that noise?  Look!  I have a finger!  Look!  I can stick my whole fist in your mouth Mum! Guess what Mum? I can't wait to keep you up tonight as I'm so well rested from sleeping over at Meme's house"  Yeah I bet you can't you little turd...  I'm thinking maybe my little boy is a bit of a douchebag too?! 

Mini douchebag?!

A Bust

I attempted to go out on Saturday night.  Like for a whole night.  My GF put it to me as she is heading back out bush for work and we thought we'd have an old school sleepover, go out for dinner, drink some cocktails, go home and get all snuggly and watch shitty movies. It sounded like heaven to me.  I was almost daring the Juffin to say no.

This is the face I've had to look at for the
better part of two months!  

Before I begin that little tale, I will just start by saying a few things.  Some of you may think that I'm a coldhearted b for wanting to leave my darling child for the night but let me tell you, it has not been an easy month.  Hence the lack of posts.  I am now unable to leave the room as the Mushroom will scream incessantly.  He wants to be cuddled.  All.  The.  Time.  My house is a pigsty.  I cannot get anything done as even if I put him down in front of me whilst I cook/fold washing, he screams for me to pick him up.  He is cloying, grabby and sooky.  It is doing my f-ing head in.  I feel like I'm going bonkers and can not get a break.  He is not day sleeping again, overtired and instead of crying will now scream.  It's exhausting.  I am starting to think that there's something else going on.  Tonight he did a full 180 and went from laughing to screaming crying in the blink of an eye.  I'm at a loss.  I just want it to stop and have contemplated putting him out with the bins on a Tuesday night*.  Damn Mushroom.   

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.

Mmm!  Mojitoes!  

What follows is a glorious evening of spicy food, cold drinks and witty banter.  I'm having a great time.  It's so nice to be out, and without my men, I almost feel guilty then shrug it off.  I hope that everything is going well at home.

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.

FAAARRKKKK!

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!!

Solitude

Motherhood makes it hard to get time to yourself.  Actually you don't get time to yourself to relax.  Like ever.  There's always something to be done or people that need you.  So you have to try and come up with things to do so you can get five minutes to yourself.  If I still smoked, I'd hide behind the shed where no-one could see me and puff my little heart out but obviously I don't smoke any more and it wouldn't do any good hiding behind the shed as the smoke would be a dead giveaway.  I could just hide behind the shed.  That would work.

I try to have a shower every evening while Juffin is doing bath time and wind down time before Mushroom's bedtime.  I light some candles in the en suite and shut the door, and turn on the water.  I peel off my baby spew stinky clothes and breathe a sigh of relief as I ease myself under the shower head.. ahh this is bliss, relaxation, peace and quiet, ahhhhhhh..... then the door opens and the fluoro comes on and there's Juffin and Mushroom grinning at me from the other side of the shower screen. "Look there's Mum.  What's Mum doing?"

It's hard to get mad at them because they're both so cute, but seriously?  Can I not have a f-ing shower in peace?!  Ever mindful of little ears, I do my darndest to limit the swearing, smile winningly and tell them both to get out.  Immediately.  What part of five minutes alone do these men not understand?  I just wanna wash my vjj in peace!

Since having a baby I don't actually think I've been alone. At all.  And I love being alone.  I love reading and laying around watching terrible tv shows (Teen Wolf anyone?).  I love listening to my music and singing, I love doing my toenails with no distractions.  I love it.  Unfortunately as part and parcel of being a parent, those days are most definitely over.  It's just taking some time to adjust.  I'm not sure I ever will.  

So the other day, in an attempt to get some time alone I decided to mow the lawn.  What better way to get away from my boyfriend and my Mushroom?  Lawn mowing is a solitary activity.  It's also not baby friendly nor is it fun.  But it's solitary.  And it's necessary.  And I can put my head phone's in and walk up and down with a purpose.  The key word here is solitary.

It's come to this.  Lawn mowing.

It was the only thing that I could think of where they wouldn't follow me.  But I had to walk up and down in the blazing hot sun with a lawnmower to get away from them.  Not exactly relaxing.

I kept mowing until I ran out of fuel.  At least I was by myself and I was doing some exercise.  Right?

And before anyone says anything about tiny yards and mowing etc, this is my yard.  And yes the grass at the back was that long.  And yes, I mowed it and the front yard.  I am woman, hear me roar.

The Back Yard