The last time I wrote a blog post I was probably semi-pissed on a tiny wine, having eliminated booze from my diet for so long, thus protecting the tiny human from alcohol poisoning via boob milk.
Now, I’m just semi pissed on a huge wine, hoping that the alcohol will go straight to tiny human number two’s veins, thus creating a perfect night of only 3-5 ‘wakeups’.
When we found out we were pregnant with Ralph, Leo was 7 months old. Almost instantly, I began shovelling cream cakes into my mouth, ditching the diet (which if I’m honest, never really began) and mourning the loss of brie, gin and anything else alcoholic – it was brutal, as I had breast fed Leo until 6 months, so I only had 4 glorious weeks of reckless drinking.
We had always wanted two kids close in age and when we found out we were having another boy, I was over the moon. I think a lot of people believe that most people would like ‘one of each’, but we are not ‘most people’. And as a dance teacher who has taught many, many girls, I can confidently say that I’m happy with my two little men. (I’m also planning on becoming a sort of Mafia Mum that they adore and will do anything for – including killing my husband etc…)
I was very lucky with my pregnancy with Leo and annoyingly for some, with Ralph too. Sure, I gained loads of weight, forgot what my feet looked like, had mood swings like you wouldn’t believe and didn’t sleep because everything hurt (and I mean EVERYTHING*), but I didn’t puke and the little dude was happy and comfy.
The hardest thing about being pregnant and having a 7 month old for me was the guilt that I was somehow ‘taking’ time away from Leo. (I’ve since been assured by a lovely friend that in fact I was giving’ him a sibling; which is very special and I love her for supporting me.) I spent the 9 months of pregnancy doing everything I could with Leo – swimming, soft play (vom) lunches and even spending hours watching him watch television – intermittently making him kiss my bump in a vague attempt to let him know what was going on.
When I was pregnant with Leo I really got to know him before he arrived. With Ralphie however, I didn’t have the time to sit and dream about what this baby would be like, or caress my massive bump whilst taking a long bath. It felt like (to be brutal), the bump was just a big inconvenience – stopping me from running around at Soft Play, carrying a sleepy toddler or forcing me to live on Rennie.
But as cheesy as it sounds, the moment that little guy arrived on his due date, (at 7lb 1 in the exact same room his bro was born – and thankfully, after a vastly shorter labour) I was in love. And a further 24 hours later, once home and fully acquainted, I knew him. And he knew me.
Of course that’s all gone to shit now – I have no idea what he wants, he seems to have zero appreciation for my ‘me time’ (non-existent) and spends 90% of the time clawing at my boobs, like a tit-crazed zombie.
But we’re cool.
One of the most common things I’m asked is ‘Does Leo get jealous?” In a word; no. Leo is such a cool cat that Ralph’s arrival has only enhanced his little world. He has always been very gentle and kind (bar a few smacking on the head incidents) and most recently, loves bossing him about and showing him toys – which Ralph loves. We are both hoping this little friendship continues to develop and although there is no doubt going to be arguments and quarrels, we are sure they wont last long – mainly because Leo is pretty butch and at this point, Ralph doesn’t stand much of a chance.
So, we have two boys. I live a house with three boys. When my step son is here, that’s four boys. That’s four penises missing a toilet…send help…send wine…send bleach.