I feel bereft. My baby is growing up.
I know I should be relieved. Some mums move their babes into the nursery within weeks. (These mums are the smug sleep through the night-ers).
Not me. Sigh. I probably could go on with the Monkey in our room...in fact, our bed, for years. Listening to his wee snores, being able to reach out a hand to comfort him...or, in reality, having to hold a pillow over my head as he dances around the cot, squeaking his Sofie Giraffe, at 5 in the morning.
I know that now's a good time for the Monkey (27 weeks). If I leave it any longer, it'll be tougher for him. And probably for me.
They grow up so fast. And as much as I treasure each new stage, new trick, new experience, I do sort of mourn the passing days.
But you know what I just tried to think of the things I miss and I actually can't think of any. I can't even remember what the Monkey was like as a newborn. Instead to buoy me up, here's a list of the things I don't miss.
Colic
Burping
Cluster feeding
Growth spurts every 5 minutes
Crying...hours and hours of crying.
Not being able to put the Monkey down EVER.
Endless pooey nappies
Struggling to get out of the door before the next feed is due
Expressing.
Maybe growing up isn't so bad after all. And anyway, there's always No.2...
