I am aware that the majority (probably all) of you will be feeling desperately sorry for my poor husband. Wondering what kind of manipulation and brain washing a wife must have to do in order for him to suggest such a thing. However, please let me put an end to any sympathy you may have by revealing that he is at it aswell and usually more often and for longer periods of time.
We spend nine months trying to live like organic angels verging on born again virgins, doing everything we can to grow a healthy little human. Buying into every miracle cream, vitamin and birthing class and book going. What keeps us committed through all the dry parties, the charcoaled steaks and inedible non runny eggs?
It's fitting, really, that in the month I've assigned, "Weaning with Respect Month", another self-appointed baby sleep trainer has taken the opportunity to show how little he/they knows/know about newborn babies, their nutritional needs, their slumber needs, and basically anything about anything related to any of their needs.
As if there is not enough pigeon holing of us mums already, as we endure fellow mums, relatives, friends and the old woman down the street trying to shoe horn us into a motherhood "type". We now have the latest stereotyping on the mum block that is "Momstrology". Yes you read right ladies. "Momstrology".
Babies and I have never really hit it off. But while I have never been that person who will coo on cue at the babies of strangers, I have a new-found appreciation of babies via my niece Leela who is just about The Best Thing Ever. When I visited my sister in the hospitable three weeks ago, I burst into tears at the sight of this tiny little person who hadn't even existed a year ago.
When I was pregnant with my second child, I thought about perfect and good. So this time around, I called three friends and made them promise: when my daughter was three months old, they were to call and ask me if she'd had any formula. I would not lie. If the answer was no, they had to come over and give it to her themselves.
Sometimes it feels like the cracks are growing across the surface of our lives, creeping slowly into the foundations and threatening to force a crumbling. Sometimes it feels like I don't have a firm hold on all the pieces and if I stop concentrating, they'll fall apart. Sometimes I feel like I don't want to wear the smile anymore.
You tentatively get out of bed and as you take each ritual step into the nursery you realise that your steps are a little lighter and the quick sand you feel yourself walking through most days is now more like a muddy puddle. Your head feels, dare you say it "clearer" and the morning routine not as daunting.