Guilt x 4
I am alternating between elation and feeling incredibly lucky to have four healthy children [touch wood] and feeling that the whole new baby with three kids thing is perhaps a challenge too far. In the past few days the baby has decided never to be put down. He wakes up every single time you try, which would be fine if I didn't have three other children who need and deserve attention. I can put him in a sling and wander around with him all day, but after a few hours my back hurts and it is so hot and sticky. Plus I am currently waking every two hours in the night.
I know, I know. It is only a phase and it will get easier, but in the meantime I can see my other children needing me and not being able to do anything about it. Big girl daughter wants to be cuddled "all through the night" at the moment. She is so in need of attention that the fact that she got stung by a wasp the other day was the highlight of her weekend. Bonkers daughter seems to keep going on her various projects regardless of what anyone else is doing, but told me I hated her on Saturday because I refused to give her a lollipop [she had eaten four the day before and had promised to avoid them for a week thereafter]. The thing is - oh guilt - I should have stopped her eating four, but I said no and she just went and got one and I was stuck with the baby on the sofa so couldn't do anything about it. She had three parties at the weekend too, which also kept her busy along with her project to create some sort of pulley system with skipping ropes which would allow her to winch up objects from downstairs to her room. One of the parties was fancy dress so rebel daughter and I created a pirate outfit with skull and crossbones eye patch and a tinfoil cutlass for her.
That was one of the best points in the weekend as I felt that I was actually doing something for the girls and also involving rebel daughter who spends a lot of her time at the moment on Moshi Monsters [guilt again]. She is, in fact, the one I feel most guilty about. I would love to have time alone with her. We do have time together with the baby, but he cries a lot, which means a lot of interrupted conversations. My partner, naturally, is not getting much attention at all and comes marginally above the guinea pigs on my guiltometer. At least the football is going well for him with Spain [his country]through to the semi-finals of the World Cup and Nadal winning Wimbledon. In the meantime, I am trying to get used to male anatomy of the baby kind. It is not just the unexpected weeing in your face. The pooing is equally surprising and violent. I was in a lovely white nightshirt the other day. I had just rediscovered it at the bottom of a pile of laundry I had not ventured near in around two years. I tried to change the baby's nappy. Whoosh. I was covered head to toe in yellow sticky stuff which I fear will never entirely come off.
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