Roused by the sounds of baby coming from the next room, I open my eyes. Spring sunlight is beginning to stream through the curtains. Morning.
I start the process of recalling how many times I have been up during the night. Better or worse than usual? Sam stirs, ‘Don’t worry, I’ll get up with him, you were out last night’. I am relieved that I don’t have to contemplate the guilt of waking him to ask, and thankful that he has already thought to offer up the ‘lie-in’. My body relaxes in preparation to drift back into sleep.
The baby moans become more insistent. I open my eyes, it’s dark, cold, still. Out of the corner of my eye, the monitor lights flicker. Those noises again. My phone says 4.30am.
There is no getting out of getting up. I have been fooled by my brain. We are at that wake up. It means feeding Arlo in his room for at least 45 minutes in the desperate hope that he will fall back to sleep until a more respectable hour and the morning wake up that I dreamed about.
This is how the story of this 366 installment started. I did eventually get my lie-in, and at 8.30am I was greeted to a family porridge breakfast, just like the Goldilocks bears.
A high-five over porridge breakfast.
Buying Arlo’s first shoes.
This is the only time he has let me hold his hand since he started walking.
A second before I took this, the squirrel was facing Arlo, which would have made for an amazing photo.
But in that moment I was contemplating whether to actually put the camera down and protect my child from a potentially dangerous animal.
The camera won, obviously. But just a little too late for that perfect shot.
We were either pretending to sneeze, or throwing a hat in the air.
I couldn’t choose between all the smiley shots, so I chose them all.
A full house for breakfast.
It’s very rare that we have the full set. Arlo loves posting his trains in little holes or hiding places for me to find.
Every morning after milk, he turns to his dada and snuggles in.
The other day, he saw me and Sam cuddling on the sofa. He came running over and lay his head on the sofa cushion, cuddling our legs. He couldn’t quite reach us, but we knew it was a cuddle.
Since then, when he sees us cuddling, he climbs up and joins in, wedging himself right in the middle of us.
With his uncle, aunties, and Grandma on a Mother’s Day visit to Godstone farm.
The first time Arlo had seen farm animals in real life.