Well i’m not sorry actually because only if you’ve experienced the real meaning of ‘going crazy’ will you understand my obsession. It’s a healthy one and it ensures my child sleeps, gets his rest, recharges his batteries, relaxes his busy brain and basically just chills! this means that i am one of those mothers who uses a prop to help my baby sleep. after reading a truckload of books on the matter, all of which specifically point out the importance of falling asleep without aid, i beg to differ.
motherhood
Sarah Jessica Parker and a film about mothers. Hmm… Of course i rented it immediately and sold hubby on the idea of watching it with me. I must say despite the awful reviews I was pleasantly surprised. First of all, i actually thought SJP was really good playing a mother who juggles two kids, a husband, a house, birthday parties, chores and work! She was much more animated than usual even though you could still spot the Carrie-mannerisms.
The day, the experience, the genuine joy and smiles will never come back but it did give me an exciting taste of the many Christmases to come.
Whenever I hear other mummies talking about how they take their babies to concerts or restaurants or visiting after 7 in the evening I get bothered. I literally feel a sadness in the pit of my stomach. Of course it’s all down to jealousy because I simply can’t even imagine messing with Georgie’s routine. New Year Eve is coming up and I am already ultra-stressed about how to deal with it. I have turned down many invitations simply because I fear Georgie won’t enjoy himself. OK I’m lying; it’s because i won’t enjoy myself. “What if you let him nap late in the afternoon?” they ask. Well that MIGHT work if he could actually nap late in the afternoon. My obsession with not letting him nap when he should be awake means that he’ll be active and happy throughout the entire afternoon, playing around with his daddy’s belt and the dog’s toys, but come 6:30, he needs his bath and sleep. In his bed with his music and sleeping bag.
Up to February 11 of this year, I had a job. I would wake up every morning, Monday to Friday, hop into my Fiat 500 and head to work – usually with a latte and croissant in one hand and the latest Play.com purchase in the other. By 7 I was home. A hearty meal would be prepared, a glass of wine would be poured, a cigarette would be rolled and alas movie time would commence.