London, Mummy stuff

Cry-baby’s weepy week

cry-babyFinally, I am not only allowed to drive again, I also feel capable of doing so for the first time in 10 weeks. In addition to the constant headache, sleep deprivation gives me the feeling of having a major hangover – without having had the fun of getting insanely wasted the night before.  I don’t know if I am actually feeling better, or if I am just getting used to feeling spaced out all the time. What I definitely won’t get used to is being constantly weepy. It’s pathetic, really. There is not a single day where I won’t shed a few tears.

Monday: Am invited to lunch in the garden at P’s. Looks like I am going to have a tiny bit of a social life again. But: After a week of no day-time sleep whatsoever, little L decides to sleep from 11. At 2 PM, there is still no sign of her waking up. I missed the lunch. I will never ever make plans or leave the house again. Boo-hoo!

Tuesday: The eight-weeks appointment. One nurse, five diseases, two injections. The baby cried a little, the mother cried a lot.

Wednesday: As nursery places are rare in London, you have to start looking around early and put your child on a list as soon as the second pink stripe appears on the pregnancy test. So off we went to visit a ‘bright horizon’ nursery. Snotty noses, crying babies, a chalk eating little toddler and a butch carer were enough to make me want to leave, clutching little L to my chest and crying by the mere thought of leaving her in this not so bright institution.

Thursday: Mummy & me yoga, what a lovely idea. I wrapped little L in a gorgeous pink yoga-like outfit and drove to triyoga in Primrose Hill. We danced, sang, ommed, bended and stretched like true yogis and really enjoyed ourselves. Until the teacher played that song. As if I hadn’t cried enough in class already.

Friday: After a week of dadada-gooroo-gooroo-conversations with little L, my brain has reached mushy pea status again. Am looking forward to a decent chat with Big M and some time off the mummy duties. Turns out he wants to watch the telly and cannot give her the goodnight feed of lovingly expressed mummy milk, because he needs to unwind. Unwind? I can hardly remember how to spell that. A few more tears, and thankfully, this weepy week is finally over. 


  1. Aww… I remember those days… don’t you worry, you’ll get past this. Looking back, I wish I cherished those moments more of when she was young, instead of focusing on my own inabilities to socialize, be happy, or stop pitying myself. My man was/is the same. He does work hard, but it just sucks that they will never truly understand what it is like to be a mum.

    That is why we blog. lol.

  2. Oh sugar – don’t worry we’ve all been there and Margerita is right, this time does pass, and quite soon too.

    Dave didn’t get the whole why I was so weepy (curse those hormones) or how much I needed a break until he had to look after the baby on his own for a while and was a gibbering wreck when I got back. Then he realised that that was my life, every single day. It is lovely, amazing, wonderful and hard. Once he had got his head around how hard it is and that my life wasn’t having a lovely time drinking coffee all day with my mates he was a lot more supportive in a practical way.

    Hope you have some supportive other Mummys (NCT class?). Hang in there, you are doing just great!

  3. Oh No, Ijust typed a long comment and it just disappeared because I did not click on the right circle which I SWEAR was the smallest one!!
    Anyway what I was saying is that I used to cry all the time too, and just the simple idea of running out of kitchen roll would start me off! It gets better and then it gets bad again, when the hormones are not to blame anymore, but the terrible two living in your house is! You are doing just fine but the most important for you right now is meet others and communicate clearly with your husband. They are not good at guessing, this clever device has not been added to their engineering system… 🙂

  4. It is the hormones. I still cry totally out of the blue. Not as often as two and a bit years ago, but it still happens. Like, reading the Gruffalo I burst into tears?!
    As if mummydom has twisted my emotional make up. Daddydom has a similar effect incidentally, just not quite so pronounced.

  5. My other half eschewed the weeping path, focusing instead on getting cross, which I think worked out better for all of us 🙂

    Seriously though, am deeply impressed with how wifey manages to be so sane with so little sleep. Don’t know how I’d manage it, even without the hormones!

  6. Awwwww, bless you poor pet. I don’t think the crying ever really, properly goes away. Small child regularly makes me cry, naturally I don’t let her see it.

  7. Weeping is fine. (But if it goes on for too long, or gets you down, don’t ignore it.)

  8. @cartside: The Gruffalo is a very moving story.

    @Alex: Um… thought I just skip the part where I was quite snappy for no particular reason.

    @YM: What? It doesn’t stop? You are killing me.

    @MT: Thanks 🙂 I might print this on a t-shirt.

    @Iota: Fortunately, it’s only sleep deprivation + hormones + general moodiness in this case. Thanks for being so thoughtful!

  9. There are ‘miserable hopeless’ tears and ‘refreshing tears’, that kind of make you feel better after. Refreshing tears are really healthy (yours sound refreshing) – much better out than in!
    3.5yrs on and I cry at the end of every Disney movie – what a sap!
    Hmm husbands – realistically, even the best one can take a year to really get their head around the changes – they don’t have all those crying hormones to help them you see ;o)

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