Our little lady is 1 year old! Her very first birthday.
I feel like I have to keep saying that out loud, and eventually it will sink in, because I really can’t believe it. At all.
This year has been the quickest, most exciting, tiring, fun, educational, grubby, sociable and amazing year. It feels like yesterday that my husband and I were working out what we were meant to do with a tiny bundle of chub & wrinkles. Now we’re trying to work out what to do with a fast-moving toddling bundle of mischief & teeth!
It’s been an emotional few weeks though. For me. In the past two weeks the little lady has started nursery, we’ve stopped breastfeeding altogether, she’s moved into the big girl buggy and I’ve started back work. One of these things would’ve been enough to send me to crazy crying mummy town, but all of them together? Well, I’m a wreck.
The little lady is fine though. She’s happy in nursery (although she is a little upset getting dropped off), she doesn’t care that we’ve dropped the last breastfeed and she’s loving being in the forward facing buggy. Me? Not so much. These were the last of the baby things that I was clinging to. My baby is growing up.
She was only breastfeeding once a day, in the morning. But since she was offered a cup of milk and took it very willingly she hasn’t bothered once with trying to feed from me. I’m happy with that though; I didn’t force her to stop so she was obviously completely ready to. If I had kept feeding her it would’ve been far more for me than for her. I haven’t been sore at all, but good grief have my hormones been doing the crazy dance. I’m so emotional. All the time. I’ve been crying randomly for absolutely no reason whatsoever. I’ve been slightly moody with my poor husband, and I think I might have been holding and cuddling the little lady way more than she wants me to.
My hormones will be back to normal soon though, and we’ll be used to our new routine. I’m already used to the hot cups of tea and the lunches, sitting down, being able to eat with no distractions and at whatever pace I want to eat at. No having to wolf my food down, or forget that I even made lunch in the first place. And two days a week, I get to go to the toilet on my own with the door closed. I don’t have to worry about what she’s going to eat for breakfast, lunch or snack those two days either. It’s quite blissful.
And it makes me appreciate the time that we’ve had together this past year. A whole year together. Just us. It sounds like such a long time. But it’s gone by quicker than I could’ve possibly imagined. I know we’ve lots of wonderful times to come, but I can’t help wishing for a bit of it back.
My baby is one. Her very first birthday. I can’t believe it.