Saturday 14 July 2012


I miss it.

Having a baby is such a fucking horrible experience, not even the hell that is pregnancy and giving birth, but then you have the year of your sleep/time/life sucked out of you by a squirming little bleeder that gives you nothing but poo and vomit in return.

And then they get a little bit cute... and they start sleeping longer, and you forget just how horrific that first year is so you think it's a good idea to maybe have another one because it wasn't that bad. I think I should make some kind of video diary of the nights where I get about an hour sleep and my little bleeder is still awake, sucking on my boobs that are raw from all the suckling, the black bags under my eyes, the bomb site that is our house, the pure crankiness that takes over Ryota and I, and all the other things that I may forget in the future.

If I EVER mention on this blog that maybe I just want another little baby to add to the chaos of my family, PLEASE please track me down and smack me across the face.

OK, enough whining. Life update is pretty boring. I don't sleep, walk around like a zombie, look after bub, make sure Ash doesn't starve (although that's pretty much where my care stops...), fit in a few lessons occasionally... Annnnddd that's pretty much it. I have to keep telling myself that this won't last forever, that is does get easier, but fuck me it's pretty hard to do that sometimes!

Ryota, is predictably being an arse a lot of the time, but he's working hard and waking up a fair bit too (not doing anything mind you, just waking up and groaning a lot!). Like last night, as soon as he came in the door, he hit me with all the things that I'd done wrong that day, this was his list:

*I'd put a toilet cleaning gel thingy in the middle of the toilet bowl, these are strictly to be put on the side of the bowl apparently.
*I'd put the bottle of coke in the fridge door, where it doesn't quite fit, I should have put it in the main part of the fridge.
*I'd taken Ash to his kindy festival in the rain. He had an umbrella and rain coat on but surely a bit of rain will kill him. (Incidentally he has a fever today, nobody has blamed me yet so I'll just keep my trap shut...)

I think there were a few other things but I was too fucked off and tired to be arsed caring. I told him to stop being a mental fucker (this always strikes a chord with him because he knows he actually is a bit mental). I then also explained that there are a list of things that he does that fuck me off but I never actually say anything because life is too short and marriage is too hard as it is to be so fucking picky. He shut up and went to bed, which pissed me off even more because he left all the lights on and an array of shite on the coffee table, leaving me to clean up while still looking after the baby.
He apologised today and admitted he was having a bit of a mental attack because he was stressed about his test coming up next month. Meh, he's still a fucker but at least I'm getting better at reading the fucker and therefore not blaming myself.

OK, enough bitching and moaning. Sorry for not commenting on anyone's blogs recently, it's my goal this week, instead of staring at mind-numbing TV while I'm breastfeeding I intend to catch up and comment on blogs!