Much as I love my baby, there are times when I've just had enough. Moments when I'm *this* close to wearing my pyjamas on my head and running around the house screaming. Or sprawled on the floor, kicking my heels and bawling my guts out; my pyjamas still on my head. While these moments have nothing to do with Mia, they have everything to do with babies. Rather 'talking' babies. All the time. Whenever I meet someone, anyone. I really cannot handle it anymore. I want a real conversation, something that doesn't involve saying "Whoozh ma bebbee gurl" or dancing to "Sippy cup, sippy cup" or "Whatta lotta potta yu haf dunnnn" or discussing said potta with various mothers.
It's like I don't know anything else anymore. Partner comes back from work, goes, "How was your day?" and I launch into the physics of how many cloth nappies/towels it takes to ensure baby projectile spew does not get onto the bedroom carpet or on our mattress. The answer is three towels with a whole lot of it on mummy. Or how I think it's after she has had one-third of the fourth bottle of formula that her poo gets "nuggety". Partner's description, not mine. I usually yell, "Oh no she's doing chickpeas again." Then I forget to ask him how his day was and instantly go on to, "Do you want to hold the baby or..." The "or" is left hanging for long enough to not be an "or" anymore.
Before the baby I used to dread talking to women/people because sooner or later it came to relationship talk. It's not always bad, relationship talk; but it's bloody tedious when someone just goes ON dissecting his/her relationship. Especially when you can see it's a no-brainer and a definite disaster but cannot tell the person. It's worse when you are the one doing it, you know you're doing it but cannot stop. It's a different matter when relationship talk is about ways of getting over the ex and it involves a lot of 'action'. ;) It's somewhat the same with baby-talk. You hate it when (m)others have nothing else to talk but babies and yet you are very much a part of the same brigade.
I had been *this* close to completely losing my shit (would that still be called constipation?).Till thankfully two friends came to the rescue. Two women, different age groups, on two different days. I am so glad I got off my lazy bottom and met them. It was absolutely fantastic and very surprising because it was so fantastic. It always surprises me when I have a good time with another woman. There was a bit of baby-talk but there was a whole lot of talking about different things as well. Like Julian Assange. Or chauvinistic men and how they are the same in India and Australia. (Liberation my arse) And why we should sue people who dismiss us unfairly (all three of us had stories). About bringing up kids, how our parents brought us up, what we do well, what we don't, what we think about things. It was such a mental stimulation and *such* a relief.
And all the while we talked, Mia kept babbling right along. She likes a good conversation too. Who do you prefer as 'conversation company': men or women?
where I ate the icing? -- with pictures from before and after the chocolate-butter filling and ganache. I'm in love with it. Recipe to follow soon.