Nancy was weighed again, she's now 14 pounds 15 ounces, so has put on 11 ounces in 2 weeks, which is apparently very good. She's feeding loads at the moment so my boobs are either massive like Jordon's or totally stringy like a deflated balloon, and I can stretch them out by pulling my nipples which I've never been able to do before. Apparently they don't go back to normal. Another thing no-one tells you until it's too late. This is why French women allegedly don't breast feed and look so fantastic.
I went in for a meeting at work this week, it was like the two worlds colliding, and I realised how little I've used my brain over the last three months (unless you call the expanse of Lee Child crime thrillers a source of intellectual stimulation.) I'm not sure how you're meant to balance the two things, work and motherhood. I enjoy both in very different ways, but it's almost like being two different people. Maybe I've had the luxury of always having jobs I can be myself in that it's never been an issue before, but I don't think it's the done thing rocking up to work 2 hours late, being self congratulatory because you're dressed and have brushed your teeth, only to discover you have sick all down your back. The role of mum will be very much left at the door. Not that I have to worry about these things for a while but it's worth a ponder.
On the other side of that coin, I'm loving that Ulrika and Ebba are now free during their days. Last week, we spend an afternoon eating jam tarts and watching the Christmas 24 channel, and because we were doing it together it was totally guilt free. And when the guilt or listlessness does creep in on other days when I'm on my own, I have a look at a photo of Nancy from 8 or 9 weeks ago to remind myself of how small she was and how quickly the time goes by, so that I enjoy every moment with her.
I love the way she smells, I bury my nose into her neck and sniff her. And if she's been asleep for a long time I miss that smell, and have to resist from sniffing her in her sleep.
She's outgrown almost everything she started with, and we've moved onto her 3- 6 month clothes. I wept as I folded the clothes up and packed them up for Ben to give to one of his colleagues who's expecting a baby girl in February. How ridiculous, but I couldn't stop myself. God knows what I'm going to be like when she has to go to nursery.
Comments
Post a Comment