My last month of being a mum to one.
My last month before becoming a member of the two-under-two club.
It’s not a bad feeling. I’ve been a little negative a lot of the time lately, and I know I’ve bugged people. I’ve bugged me, to be honest.
I’m completely consumed by thoughts of the birth, the day when life changes all over again. I can think of nothing but how soon that day will be here. I still can’t decide where I want to give birth, or how, or with who. It’s the gross stuff on my mind. The stuff that comes as a shock the first time around because nobody tells you about it. The bleeding for weeks, and the baths without bubbles, the leaky boobs and the feeling of having no control over anything.
The house is soon to fall apart again. Those long nights watching box sets with a baby who never sleeps. Not getting out of the house for weeks on end.
I’m being negative again.
I was totally blissed out for a few weeks after having Iris, despite all of this. I felt happier than I’ve ever ever felt and I finally felt complete. It was a wonderful feeling, and I’m excited to feel it again.
I’m excited for Christmas too, more so this year than last year. Iris has no idea what it’s all about still, of course, but she’s able to enjoy it this year. She’s already gasping in wonder at the sight of Christmas trees and flashing fairy lights. She may just explode with excitement when we put our decorations up in a couple of weeks time.
My hips are sore and I’m tired, but there is a lot of Christmassy stuff going on locally in the next few weeks I’m determined my little lion won’t miss a thing.
December is here. A month for preparation and celebration. And hopefully some rest.