Toddlerhood

So, we’re finally here. It’s N’s second birthday on Saturday. I’m not entirely sure how this has happened. I am savvy enough to understand the concept of time, don’t worry. But I am completely gobsmacked that I seemed to have just blinked and my tiny, red faced little newborn is now a wild, lively and very headstrong toddler. 

The other day, I had to bite back the tears as I threw the last of N’s baby bottles away. It was his decision, he didn’t want them any more, and as amazing as that is… it broke my heart a bit more than it should have. Aside from the dummy and nappies, my baby has grown into a proper little boy. (I’ll write a separate post on the dummy in time, because I cannot be doing with the backlash I’ll undoubtedly recieve for still allowing him to have one.) 

I write an awful lot on the stressful, horrible parts of motherhood, but I really do think that it’s because I was in a very bad place. For those of you that have been following my journey for some time, you’ll have seen that I’ve had a pretty hideous bout of post natal depression. I’ve been on my medication for just over a month now and I’m so pleased to tell you that I have actually been feeling a lot more like myself recently. Which is fabulous. I’m not as stressed, and I haven’t cried in weeks. I’ve found myself becoming a lot more positive about life. I’m not sure if it’s a placebo effect, but either way, I’m feeling pretty good. (I still have shitty days, but I know that’s normal.) 

With all of these positive feelings surrounding me, I’ve been loving spending time with N. usually by the afternoon, I’m about ready to stick my head in the oven. Which is actually really sad. The last few weeks, N has been an absolute joy to spend time with. He’s like my little shadow, in a good way. He can still throw some mammoth bitch fits, that’s for sure. But instead of getting stressed about it, I’ll laugh to myself and deal with it. He’s his mother’s son, alright! 

But do you know what’s just so brilliant about having a toddler? That kid loves me so much, I can just see it in his face. I’ll leave the room for a few minutes, come back and he’ll greet me with a “MUMMY!” and a massive slobbery kiss. I’ve never been someone’s life before, but it’s actually really nice to be wanted so much. I am totally embracing all of the love and cuddles and dribbly kisses that he has to offer, because before I know it, I’ll be writing to tell you all that he’ll be going to school; making friends and going on play dates without me. He’ll be too embarrassed to tell me that he loves me and give me cuddles and kisses in front of his pals. 

I think back and wonder how long N has loved me like this, I wonder if this is all that he’s ever wanted from me, but I’ve been too busy taking out my issues on him. I then get a truck load of mum guilt and instantly want to go and pick him up and tell him I’m sorry that I’ve been a bit shit recently and that I love him more than it’s possible to love anything else. 

Because I do. That kid is my life. I might have been pestering Daddy for another baby… but we all know that I’m not doing that for another few years yet! 

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