Joined At The Hip.

To say that we are inseparable would be an understatement; right now, we two are one, as we were when I carried her in my belly for all those weeks and months. Our worlds revolve around each other. We sleep, laugh, play together, my heart aches when she is sad and nothing makes me happier than to see her smiling.

Sometimes, her need for me is exhausting. I understand her anxiety, that I provide reassurance, safety, security when I hold her. Sometimes I wish she weren't so 'needy', that she would be just as happy with S, that it were easier for me to soak in the bath or take Pearl for a walk without hearing her start to fuss. Sometimes she is inconsolable until I take her in my arms, when her cries become muffled sobs as she buries her face in my shoulder. Sometimes her brow furrows and she shouts angrily at me, as if to say 'how dare you leave me, Mumma, when I needed you!', though she never stays angry for long. Her little arms reach for me when others hold her and I feel the relief as her muscles relax when I take her back. I am her safety net, her comfort blanket. I never knew how tiring it could be to have such epic responsibility.

I'd be lying, though, if I said I didn't love it. I know that her anxiety will pass, that she'll learn I'll come back when I leave and that independence is fun and exciting. I may moan my lack of alone time and my aching arms but when I feel her little body snuggle close, it's all worth it.

So for now, we are joined. We're taking it one day at a time, meeting new people, experiencing different sights and sounds. I encourage her to play independently and cover her with kisses when she starts to fuss. I leave her with a 'bye baby, I'll be back soon' and return with smiles and cuddles. I know I'll miss the way she needs me one day so I try not to take it for granted, no matter how difficult it can be at times. My little baby won't be little forever, after all!

Love, K.

Seven Months.

My sproglet is seven months old today.  It isn't fair that the days and weeks are moving so fast. In what feels like the blink of any eye, she is transformed and every day she changes just that little bit more; her eyes sparkle a touch brighter with understanding, her fingers pinch and grasp more effectively, her posture improves. It's truly amazing just how quickly she is growing, becoming aware of her surroundings, of us and of herself.

This last month has been the most challenging thus far, I think. I say this, thinking that the most challenging aspects of parenting a baby would be the night feeds or figuring out how to breast feed or learning what her cry would sound like when she was hungry, tired, needed changing. I didn't realise how tough her separation anxiety would be to deal with and, quite frankly, it's exhausting.

V has always loved being held. She adores it, in fact. It is her favourite thing above all other things in the world. This is partly because our last apartment could get very, very cold and we would hold her often to keep her warm and snuggly. Since we moved to our nicer, warmer apartment, we held her less. She was happy to play in her bouncy chair or roll on the rug with Pearl, only getting crabby if we left her for too long. Over the last few weeks, however, her anxiety has grown considerably. She hates it if I leave the room and she can't see me any more, even when she's sitting with S. No amount of his soothing will comfort her, her cries only ceasing when I'm holding her again. Sometimes I don't even have to leave the room; putting her into her highchair to prepare her dinner upsets her and while I wish I could do everything one handed, I can't hold her constantly. It's frustrating and upsetting to hear her cry for me and, while I know it won't last forever, it's pretty draining.

When V isn't being crabby due to lack of being held, she loves to play. Her favourite things to play with at the moment are tissues, which she can shred to pieces, and empty plastic bottles to squeeze and crinkle. So much for getting her building blocks and books to look at; I have a feeling she might be one of those 'more interested in the box' kids!

She eats like a champ too, though she hasn't quite figured out how to get food into her mouth yet. She loves chicken, potatoes, a whole host of fruit and vegetables (particularly bananas) and, as of yet, she hasn't outright refused anything. I'm so impressed! V rolls from back to front to back with ease and is starting to realise the if she lifted herself up a little more, she might be able to move. Her favourite song is 'Row Your Boat', particularly the verse with the crocodile, and both S and I are very honored recipients of many wet, open-mouthed cheek kisses. It's adorable and sloppy and I love it.

It's been quiet on the blog front and this post might've explained why a little bit. We're taking things one day at a time and enjoying all the awesome moments and simply doing our best with the not-so-awesome ones. While my arms ache from holding her chubby little person all day, I know it won't be long before she'll be scooting about, all independent and not needing her Mumma quite so much. I try to remember that.

Seven months. I'm looking forward to what the eighth one has in store! Have a wonderful week!

Love, K.