It’s my little man’s six month birthday! Where did the time go? In a blur of nappies, sleepless nights and a balanced mix of tears and laughter.

It’s been a roller-coaster ride for sure, mainly thanks to those pesky hormones and the aforementioned lack of sleep. I remember waking up from a nap when Bowie was just a week or two old, coming up to the living room to see that the famous Parisien cathedral Notre Dame was in flames and bursting into tears at the sight.

It probably doesn’t help that I was already a rather emotional creature to start with. Things have slightly calmed down since then, but only slightly. By three pm today I had only cried three times.

One of the occasions was due to having bashed my elbow off the window frame. I swear I must have hit an acupressure point, the kind that a ninja fighter would aim for in order to incapacitate his enemy.

I mean, I’ve gone through twenty-nine hours of labour and birthed a baby without pain relief and I swear it didn’t hurt as bad as my elbow did today. For several minutes I could do nothing but clutch my arm to me and try to breathe, all the while bellowing “OOOOWWWW!”

Once the initial agony had subsided, I sat on the bed next to Bowie and cried while he stared up at me curiously, fascinated by the gasps and sighs I was emitting. It wasn’t long before the tears were interspersed with giggles, both mine and his.

That’s what babies will do, they turn everything on its head, from tears to laughter and vice versa. I tried to celebrate his momentous six month birthday but he wasn’t really in the form. If I put him down and didn’t stay right next to him he was rolling around the floor wailing.

It was just one of those days where I had a little human glued to my hip, whether I was doing the laundry, drinking my coffee or trying to go to the toilet. I mean I don’t even mind it that much, I adore the little critter, he is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

But it is extremely awkward trying to wipe your bum and hold a six-month old-baby, or to sip a hot americano with your head leaning to the side to ensure he can’t grab the mug out of your hands while you’re not looking.

And never mind trying to actually get anything done with one arm while the other one goes numb from the dead-weight of him hanging off it. If I didn’t have a sling, I think I would have lost my mind today.

As it was I got two loads of laundry done, hoovered our bedroom (a handy way to give me five minutes break from the pitiful wails coming from the play-mat) sent several emails while little Boo napped (in the sling of course) went out for coffee and a croissant (looking like a homeless person in my milk-stained tracksuit pants and over-sized hoodie because hashtag: justcouldntbebothered) and had beans and cheese on toast while simultaneously feeding Bowie some beetroot. Which he loved!

I even gave him a bath in the evening before bed. I mean, whew, productivity levels were through the roof today. Look at me now, writing this as well!

I think to balance it out I may have to sit on my arse all day tomorrow, doing little more than feeding myself and Bowie. But that depends on whether he lets me sleep at all tonight. I’m ever hopeful.

Miracles do happen after all.

Ciao darlings!

Liz