I've been a bad Wifely

In so many ways, but I'll start by acknowledging my lack of presence for the last 6 weeks. I'm going to claim sleep deprivation and the fact that we still don't have a reliable internet connection... The Brig is failing miserably in his primary duty of IT support on this one.

So, I hope everyone is having a lovely run up to Christmas. I'm starting to get a little panicked so now I have a giant turkey (for 6 people), half a gallon of diet coke, presents for people who may or may not drop by, and half of firebox.com for The Brig. He's impossible to buy for, so I'm stockpiling for his birthday too. I have been very good though and bought and written Christmas cards. They have stamps on them and they will be going in the post box tomorrow...definitely. I'm determined that I won't end up with yet another pile of written cards that never get sent.

Actually, all this card writing is bringing back memories of sending wedding invitations this time last year. I was frantically sticking card and ribbon to more card and ribbon while The Brig compiled spreadsheet after spreadsheet of guest lists, their addresses and table configurations based on varying response rates. Thank God all that is over...I keep threatening The Brig that if he isn't nice to me I'm going to make him renew our vows next year. That keeps him in line.. :-)

Mammy Rites of Passage

Well, as of today, I think I have completed all of the Mammy Rites of Passage. In Beautiful Girl's four months she has
1. pee-d on me
2. poo-ed on me
3. farted on me
4. got sick on me
5. kicked me in the boob
6. punched me in the boob
7. suddenly pulled off a breastfeed in public
8. and in front of my Dad
9. and in front of The General's Dad
10. burped in my face

and today, she got sick into my mouth.

These are the bits of being a Mammy no-one tells you about, and for good reason.

Get me to the church on time

Well, the church or anywhere else for that matter. Since I had Beautiful Girl, it is impossible for me to be anywhere on time. I used to be chronically early and being on time was almost as bad as being late. Not for anyone else, mind you, I was always the one waiting for them. It was a character flaw instilled by my father who is never late. I was even on time for my wedding. Yes, about a third of our guests (the ones who don't know me so well) arrived after I did. The car pulled up in front of the church at bang on 2pm, and I was walking up the aisle at 2.02pm. The General wasn't surprised.

So, now that I have Beautiful Girl to manage too, I find it impossible to be on time any more. She always needs a feed, a nappy change or a costume change just as we're walking out the door. Last night she decided to mix things up a bit, and I got the costume change, right after she projectile vomitted all over the only nice outfit I can fit into. So the General and I went out for dinner (our first proper date since she was born) and I was in a, thankfully new, cardi and jeans.

I find Sunday mornings the hardest. I go to church most Sundays. The congregation I attend is pretty small so the number of services per week is limited to one – 11am Sunday morning. It's a pretty reasonable time and day for religious worship, but because it's the only option, it's important for me to try to leave the house on time. Since three months ago, it doesn't happen. Beautiful Girl always manages to wake up just as I'm about to leave and wants to be fed, watered and changed. It doesn't matter what time she goes to be the night before, or how many times she wakes during the night, on Sunday mornings, she wakes at 10.30, just as I need to walk out the door. We then have a lovely 20 minutes of smiles and giggles while we're changing her nappy and getting her into her Sunday best. She always seems to want a chat while she's feeding too, which makes a usually quick and easy process entertaining but drawn out.

I may have to get over my fear of waking a sleeping baby one of these days. Either that or go back to being a Catholic and a choice of services over two whole days...