Do you ever wake up and it seems like a really good day? Like, even though we are in the middle of a global pandemic the sun is shining, the birds are chirping and today is MY lie in morning. So yes, it's good. Until BAM, you realise something just doesn't feel right. My eye sight is fine, somewhat blurry but it always is because my glasses make me look like ugly Betty. I think about last night, I was up late finishing an article about me and my fella arguing, but it was fine I went to bed and we were sound. Then I hear the whinging of my baby and I think ah that's it, I'm a mum. 3 months in you'd think I'd be used to it by not but no no, sometimes I look at him and I'm hit with this wave of reality. This is a regular occurance. I start to do some leg raises, I decided to start a challenge to flatten the mum pooch wish me luck. But then I hear my fella and his famous words 'well you know what you're just messing with it so you're not having it!'. Let me just regroup and tell you I hear this almost every day and it drives. Me. Mad! So if course the baby is refusing his bottle AND his dummy as a package in a desperate bid to stay awake. So I finish my leg raises, collect my thoughts and go down stairs. But something still isn't right. I get to the living room and the atmosphere feels weird. I walk in and my fella is sat with the baby sat up on his legs and he stares at me, this is odd. Usually he greets me, even half asleep with 'morrrrning' or 'you're up, have a nice sleep?' Or you know, something normal? But this morning as I walk in he looked at me like I genuinely just waxed his eyebrows fresh off his face, what the fuck is going on???
So I walk to the middle of the living room floor and say 'helloo' I genuinely feel like I've shouted 'Fernando don't stop!' In my sleep. Then he gives me 'the mum look' and I don't mean the look I give, I mean the kids just tidied their room of their own free will face. And he spreads his arms a little and says those infamous words 'notice anything?' With a smile. I genuinely skim every inch of the living room until he says 'so... you notice what I've done?' I stand there clutching at mental straws 'what am I missing???' So I slowly guess answer 'youuu, mopped the floor?' (He deffo hasn't mopped the floor). He says 'are you messing, I've tidied all down stairs, the shit off the couch is gone (the shit on the couch was baby clothes which I assume are now in the babies wardrobe where they live?), the floor is brushed, your makeup shit is pushed away over there (pushed under shelves, I had to start putting my face on downstairs due to the baby), all his toys are in the corner, dishes are done (pan and cutlery clearly aren't included), bottles are done, yep, smashed it today'. Hhmmm. He has indeed 'smashed' the house work, he's done good tbh, he always leaves a pan I'm annoyingly used to it! But our son is so demanding I was proud and shocked at how much he had managed to get done until he hit me with those 5 words, those 5 hideous words that make you wish you lived in a different country 'baby hasn't been asleep though'. So nonchalantly. It's 12 PM, HE'S BEEN UP SINCE SEVEN!!! And with that I look at the baby, his eyes are red, he's smiling but I know I should be afraid, we all should because right now, he's a ticking timebomb. There's a reason we nickname him Jack Jack, ever seen the baby turn into the bright red demon in the incredibles 2 after he has a cookie? If you have a baby you'll understand. So I take the baby and I try to settle him. As I'm rocking him I finally realise what feels so weird, my eye lash is slowly falling off. My entire morning I have thought I'm losing the plot, or I'm going blind and now I FINALLY see it, I literally see it the gap in the middle where the glue has come unstuck. But I can leave it for a minute, settling the baby is more important. I try the bottle, 3 gulps and pushes it away, turns the face and everything as if I put tequila in it! And his dad goes 'see, that's what he's been doing all morning' I'm very well aware of it he does this when he is tired, especially over tired. So I give him his dummy, sucks it for 10 seconds and 'bleh' spits it out. I can see my eyelash again now, but this time it has fallen down, I HAVE to be OK with this the baby is settling a bit right? Wrong! Bottle again, dummy again, we alternate this refusal for around 5 minutes before I get bored and he gets more ratty. So I take him to his cot for a nap, it's a new thing I'm trying. As I'm walking up the stairs with him I'm very careful to watch where I am going whilst keeping this eyelash on, at this point it's more me just being stubborn I CAN KEEP IT ON! So we get upstairs, and settling him isn't as easy as one may have thought, it's me, I am one, one very misinformed one. After about 10 minutes he starts wavering, you know them hazy, twinkly eyes they get when they start drifting off into dreamland. But I look down, and I see them little blue eyes staring at me so safe and the eyelash is a thing of the past, it's inconsequential. The thing that annoys me most means nothing at the moment, it's 12 in the afternoon, the sun is beaming outside and my eyelash is falling off. But as I sit here rocking my perfect, annoying, amazing little boy to sleep, top ridden up I can see the mum tum that disgusts me and the stretch marks that make me sad, they too mean nothing.
I sit and I rock my baby. I'm so tired, I'm so drained, but nothing could ruin this moment of perfectness, absolutely nothing in this world. Not even my stray eyelash that I can see, gently, flapping in the breeze, nothing could ruin this moment.