Morning – 7am
Then: 7am was not a “special” morning feed, it was probably the 4th that day… or more if we were really lucky. Aside: we are massive hippies who want to ruin our lives forever so we co-slept until Tot turned one…
Our morning routine consisted of sitting up, watching from 4-5 different angles to ensure ‘proper’ latching was going on with a breastfeeding pillow, some lansinoh cream, a bottle of water and an iPad for support.
Bearded Man would head off to work at around 6am so we’d be on our lonesome, watching Netflix boxsets and enjoying a loooong lie in. Our get up time until I went back to work was 10am at the earliest. I’m a massive fan of breastmilk because you can serve it in bed with minimal effort.
Now: The 7am feed is more like the “somewhere between 5 and 7 feed” now. On my days at work I clamber over the stair gate/short Mum trap we have on her door, flop into bed with her and she does the rest.
The rest currently includes any of the following, or all of them on a good day:
- demanding to be released from her straight jacket (Growbag)
- sitting up, walking off, finding a hard plastic animal
- returning, latching on, trying to insert hard plastic animal into my nostril
- feeding me a dummy while I try to pretend I’m still asleep in my own bed
- getting the iPad and forcing it on me until I produce CBeebies (Yes, she has an iPad in her room, we don’t use it ourselves and she’s not going to die from a bit of TV)
- smacking the iPad repeatedly until CBeebies dies
- jumping off her mattress upon seeing Bearded Man and giving her dad the biggest smiles, kisses and cuddles everrrr.
- having big chats with the cat
It’s all great fun. When will it stop? Probably not before she has a full set of teeth. Her teething pain is back this week (first upper molars on both sides) and a sure-fire way to quell the howls of discomfort is a boob.