6 Weeks In- Hungry Little Caterpillar

I just love those Maternal Health Nurse types. The one I have this time is lovely, honestly. Where she thrives simply enhances just how effing horrendous my last MHN with the first baby was.

I was warned, this time, that a growing spurt commences at around the age of 6 weeks, and as textbook as you could be, little J has been driving me nutters today!

My question last time of “Why is The Chicken not sleeping so much suddenly, why is she not latching on properly and crying when she should be eating?”

Reply: “Oh, they start doing that at this age…”

For how long? Forever and why? No answer. Bitch.

On a positive note, my desperate exhaustion and confusion are both put in their place by a quick search on Google – What to expect from a growth spurt.

The little guy is HUGE (which rather opposes the title of ‘little’ guy), he weighs more than The Chicken did at 17 weeks of age. He will one day be able to crush me with his hugs. SnAp!

I still have trouble getting used to the idea the he will one day be a hairy, stinky man. I also still have some trouble with the fact that my round headed pretty little boy has, well, balls…

I have been invited to a couple of outings, and I know I can’t make it to some. In fact, anything too energetic may have to wait till around Christmas time, emotionally and physically. I’ll be damned if surgery recovery is going to take a year! (I read one women’s account after she decided to go for a brisk walk 5 weeks after surgery and busted her gut open). Plus, i’m too tired! Someone just pick me up, take me to a cafe and feed me watered down coffee beans please. Oh, and take me to buy pretty things. Not clothes though, Lord knows there’s another 10 kilo’s schlepped around me to shed before i’d even consider a pretty pair of anything.

Sez this spoilt puppy on her new MacBook, and since it’s 1am and i’m waiting for the Caterpillar to pass out inside his fabric chrysalis I am sipping on chamomile tea. In the hopes, highest of high, that I can flutter away blissfully to the Land of Nod.

Until 4am (one hopes) to do it all again.


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