I am a tad tired today after 5 straight days with you from the first awakening to the last peep. As I write this you are in your room next door asleep. Not. You are chattering away and singing to yourself. Which brings me to my next point: I have the ducking Sesame Street ABC song embedded in my head, I have Bah Bah Black Sheep also welded into my brain, I have little scratches all over my hands and face from you swiping at me, my hands are red raw from being wet then dry, I am kicked in the stomach on a daily basis when changing your nappy, I have a bloodshot eye from a headbutt, my waistline has expanded from eating your leftovers as well as just eating more and less well for energy/time reasons respectively, I am wearing 'comfy' 'practical' clothing very often indeed (recent stains include poo, sick and blood, see 8th Feb posting), my body feels really properly knackered and working my way back to running even just 5k is a major effort. And I didn't even have a pregnancy...
Not that any of it matters, it's just worth noting quite how physical becoming a parent is.
I've nothing else to say; not even sure why I offloaded that little lot. I wish I could attach a recording of you right now to this blog as the soundtrack – you're singing a mixture of ABC, Bah Bah Sheep Sheep and Twinkle Twinkle, laughing to yourself, and chucking things out your cot.
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