No more zucchini

My chest is slightly tight as I think of all the things that I should be doing. Like finishing all those toy lanyards, or starting some new projects. But all I can do is write.

I walked in at about ten thirty last night after a night out with a friend. It was an emotional night as this person and I had been estranged and there was hurt on both sides. As I entered the house from our long good byes, hugs and kisses of farewell, Mr A. was visibly distressed. ‘He has woken up three times since I put his down at six o’clock’, he declared. I stumbled around a little, slightly tipsy from my flirt with alcohol during the evening as I mumbled, ‘well what can I do about it?’.

Cruel.

I fell into a deep slumber until around one in the morning when I was rudely awoken (yes, my insolence is meant to piss you off) by Mr. A sighing in distress. He had been awoken some five times since we retired at half-past ten due to Master X’s inability to settle.

Something was up.

He was crying, arching his back and obviously uncomfortable. The food. I suggested that Mr. A snuggle with our son in the hope that this comfort may help him to settle. Silence, sleep.

Scratch, scratch, scratch.

Master X began to drag his fingernails across the bed sheets. During the light of day we would call this cute, his tickling of fabrics (a sewer in the making?), but at one in the morning it was just downright rude.

‘Stop that. Go to sleep’, directed Mr. A drearily.

Scratch, scratch, scratch.

Mr. A sighed with resignation. Bringing Master X to bed is our last resort when we feel that we have exhausted all other options.

  • He had a full feed at ten thirty to help him settle (he normally does not have a feed at that time)
  • He had a clean nappy twice in the past three hours, just to be sure to be sure
  • Mr. A had administered paracetamol at midnight thinking that it might be teething due to Master X burying his face into the mattress

I decided that it was time to get up. I carefully collected Master X from Mr. A’s snuggle cuddle and took him back to his bedroom across the narrow hall. ‘What’s up little guy?’ I gently question, feeling sorry for him in his obvious discomfort.

I set up the spare bed with some pillows and lay with him there, talking, kissing, snuggling. Light on, light off. Stand up to jiggle. Place Master X back into his own bed.

Scratch, scratch, groan, writher.

I waited until half-past two and then succumb to give him another feed. I felt terrible in myself, so tired, slightly exhausted, definitely sleepy. Then magic, he went to sleep at about three o’clock after some more initial writhing and groaning. Poor little guy, no more of that batch of puree with zucchini for you.

Needless to say that today we all spent the majority of our time in our respective beds, sleeping off the terrible night. We did make it to the pool which was quite delicious and surprisingly only slightly anxious for me given that it was a hot day and the premises were quite crowded.

But ultimately, settling the little man, keeping my cool and prioritising our rest today shows just how far we have all come. No fights, no meltdowns, no missed meals. Just good old family bonding.

And no more zucchini for Master X.

Zucchini or courgette sliced on white, clipping path i

A Bit Of Everything
Diary of an imperfect mum

12 thoughts on “No more zucchini

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