Deadlines and Diapers

I suppose in this first article I should explain the title. It's the story of my life at the moment. Well, it is if you also add in dust and dinners. I thought that Deadlines, Dust, Dinners and Diapers was a bit long for a domain name. Can you imagine having to type in deadlinesdustdinnersanddiapers.com? I'd never get any visitors. Couldn't blame them either because I certainly wouldn't manage to get that URL typed in all correct. An error "Not Found" message would be all I'd get. So, the shortened version it is. Hopefully this one will be easy enough to type in. Hey, if I can get it right anyone can!

The "diapers" part is almost 7 months old. He'll be 7 months on Valentine's Day. Jake's certainly a little sweetheart but he seems to have some kind of in-built warning system that sounds an alarm when Momma starts to do anything not connected to his needs or desires. He can be sound asleep in his crib so I'll tip-toe out of the room making sure I don't rattle any papers or fall over anything on the way, and as soon as I reach the office door I will hear this desolate wail from the living room, and have to go straight back to reassure my darling that Momma is still there and he hasn't been abandoned. The same thing happens if I try to eat anything. I can't remember the last time I sat down to eat and didn't have to go and see if he was ok because he'd started whining about something. Maybe I ought to write this down in a journal somewhere so that when he's all grown-up, has his friends around, and complains that I interrupt to much, I could pull out the notebook and say "Look at this. I never ate in peace for months!" 

Having had that bit mommy-whine, I have to confess that he has me completely wrapped around his little finger. Sometimes I rush back to him thinking that he must have injured himself to result in such heart-felt sobbing, only to find him lying and waiting for me. I ought to be cross and tell him that he's a little faker, but how can I do that when he looks at me with such big beautiful eyes and flashes me a huge gummy smile that makes my heart melt. Thank goodness for an understanding husband who comes home from work and takes care of the baby whilst I attend to the "deadlines" side of life.

To go back to this not-eating thing, I'd like to know why I don't resemble a stick-insect. On the other hand, maybe it's something to do with the cookies I manage to grab before going back to soothe my little ones feathers!

Katie-Anne, 2001