Raise a glass for me, I survived the first year and only managed to lose about 3000 hours of sleep, all of my will to live and look like the walking dead for pretty much all of it.
I am feeling a whole new sense of brand new…. FEAR.
Where do I start with this?
I have a one year old daughter who already has more attitude then me, all the sassy tantrums, outbursts and love for running off with my purse, cards and shoes.
Just when you thought having a newborn was the game-changer, in steps your new toddler ready to destroy everything in sight, steal your patience and still never let you get a full nights sleep, whoever said they sleep more with age is a liar.
With all of that aside, there is also this overwhelming excitement and pride over my beautiful daughter, she is smart, funny and willing to learn. It’s as if her brain never switches off, she even babbles some drama in her sleep. The funniest thing is watching her with her toy phone, putting the world to rights and knowing that she is most certainly my child, for sure.
The emotional side of completing the first 365 days was turmoil on the lead up and is now just the next level of anxiety, everything looks like a germ, a hazard, a fall, an illness or a tantrum x100. I stand at the till in the shop and just hope she doesn’t throw a huge to do over nothing and have the whole shop stop to stare- you’d think after a whole year this wouldn’t be such a thing for me, but yes, it is. I still have that desire to not look like all the winging it that I do on a daily basis. I am not at the toddler stage of not giving a damn what others think…. yet.
One thing I am happy about is, a years worth of pelvic floor exercises finally mean I don’t have that terrible urgency to wee myself if I don’t get to the toilet within one minute.
Also, one perk to it is one year old’s really do give some great hugs, kisses and affection. I am a sucker for a big cuddle after a long day of being slapped and having my hair pulled over nothing, I really am.
All in all, it is wonderful, truly been the best yet at times most disastrous year of my life. I am not a perfect mother but I am a bloody good one at that. I do still get a nappy on the wrong way when being overtired kicks in and now officially do a run and dive with the custard creams just to at least get one, but above all I give it my best.
Just a mum winging it, doing a slow but steady tip-toe into the next phase, often falling down but always getting back up again.