My day has gone something like this… Womb Raider wakes at 5.10am for a breakfast of boob and some party time. After providing the feast to end all feasts I hand her to Dad as she decides that more sleep is not on her agenda. “Take her out and shut the door thanks!!” I croak. Hooray for my husband/butler/cleaner who graciously obliges while I get some hugely needed zzzzz’s.
Later that morning my darling 8 week old daughter declares war on mum by staying up for 5+ hrs (not really that great for a baby this young) and rejecting all offers of sleep. OK.
The Mall. A sanctuary of fluorescent lights and tidy displays of crap I don’t need, but a sanctuary nonetheless. She’ll definitely sleep in the car!!! This is a magnificent idea, and I smile at the thought as I shove all the necessary items in a bag and chuck it in the car as fast as I can.
By the end of the street there is silence and I high five myself and start salivating at the thought of my cafe lunch and peaceful break.
HA!! Some luck. Once I’m parked at the cafe and the smell of my cappuccino and smoked salmon salad wafts tantalizingly under my nose, and the first bite of goodness hits my lips…..BANG. She’s up. And not only is she awake, but she’s yelling to let me and the other mall patrons know it.
I can handle this, it’s OK. The milk cannons have had a work out this morning, but she wants food and so do I. So I expertly flip the nip in her mouth as discretely as I can and continue eating. I must say I’m not looking too flash at this point as I haven’t brushed my hair or put on any makeup, and by halfway through the lunch I’ve dropped salad dressing on myself, the baby, my bag and my phone. There is a bit of rocket wedged between my boobs and some old ladies are looking at me pitifully.
I avoid eye contact with the waitress and anybody walking past, and I’m grateful nobody I know is around. Unfortunately I accidentally make eye contact with a teenaged boy copping an eyeful of the small amount of breast I am revealing. He quickly looks away, but I know he knows I know. Made his day probably, although I’m sure he’d rather have seen boobs sexier than these ones.
Then it’s off to the change room whilst calling the sister-in-law for some advice on stopping this cat napping!
I take off the nappy and audibly gasp, it’s a poo-nami of epic proportions….it’s a mustard river of shit, and it’s bloody everywhere. There are no reinforcements to call on, it’s just me, her, and the torrent of turd that has made it’s way into every crease of her tiny body.
“I’ll call you back”. Womb Raider stares at me and I stare at her. We have a little moment, then I literally don’t know where to start.
I do know I’m taking out shares in baby wipes as soon as I get home….
There is a mirror above the change table and I catch a glimpse of myself and almost want to scream. WTF?! That’s not me!! That’s some dishevelled looking mum that just doesn’t care anymore, how can she go out like that? She looks like she has been dragged through a hedge.
Shit. I’ve just aged about 10 years in 8 weeks.
Next stop day spa and a makeup counter. Seriously….