A Day In The Life, ft. Christopher

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Hello everyone! Today the Milkmeister and I did the thing you see in the movies where the exhausted parent drives around town playing lullabies to get the baby to go to sleep. What a milestone!

It was just like the movies except a) our version had fewer lullabies and more Dambusters March,* because it came on accidentally and the Milkmeister seemed to enjoy it (i.e. fell asleep**) and b) after 35 whole minutes of peaceful backseat snoozing, she opened her eyes the second we turned off the main road into our neighbourhood.

Milkmeister, no!

*appropriate, as getting the Milkmeister to sleep was also a large strategic victory that I would have sacrificed 8 RAF bombers to achieve.

**although the Milkmeister’s taste in snoozing tunes is fairly broad; the other day she dropped off to the soothing sounds of Five Finger Death Punch, which is exactly the sort of music it sounds like.

YOU CAN’T SEE IT IN THIS PICTURE, BUT THERE IS A WIDE AWAKE BABY IN THE BACK SEAT OF THAT BOMBER

This Nice Drive happened between 4-8pm, when the calm Milkmeister that we know and love abruptly leaves the premises and is replaced by a tiny wide-eyed gremlin who hates to sleep and loves to shout at you. Apparently this is just what babies do.

What a good feature! I would like to have a word with the person who designed babies.

 

I WOULD ASK THEM, “WHY DID YOU GIVE THEM THE ABILITY TO POO ON YOUR LEG AT FOUR IN THE MORNING?”

 

The Milkmeister is going well though and apart from the Evening Possession Times she is a pretty chill and happy baby, and a surprising amount of fun for someone who can’t talk and likes to make direct eye contact while farting in your direction.

We have a nice daytime routine going, which often includes a visit to a friend, or an urgent trip to the supermarket or the baby supply store* or - depending on how the day is going - the bottle shop.

*what are these called? You know the places, shops that sell baby things. You can tell which ones they are because they have ‘baby’ in the name. We have Baby City** and Baby Factory*** and Baby On The Move**** and Baby Bunting***** within a 15 minute drive.

**terrifying thought

***terrifying thought

****terrifying thought

*****terrifying thought, assuming she is bunting you like an angry ram and not being strung from the ceiling.

Enough footnotes! On to the routine.

 

I MUST WRITE QUICKLY AS THE MILKMEISTER HAS CALLED AN URGENT MEETING IN 15 MINUTES. AGENDA: BOTTLE, NAPPY, ROLL AROUND ON THE CHANGE TABLE FARTING UNCONTROLLABLY AND GRINNING LIKE A LUNATIC

 

Here is the routine. We begin at around 7am; you have had between 3-6 hours of sleep, and the Milkmeister has had 9-10 hours of sleep. Despite this, you are the one who is expected to be cheerful, rational, and in charge of proceedings. (Spoiler alert: you are not in any way in charge of proceedings.)

1. You and the Milkmeister wake up, rested and ready for another beautiful day.

2. Change the Milkmeister’s nappy while her bottle heats up. If it’s the first change of the day, we also do what I used to call a ‘whore’s bath’ and now call a ‘birdbath’.

 

MAYBE WE NEED A NEW NAME FOR THIS BATH

 

3. Feed the Milkmeister.

4. Burp the Milkmeister.

5. Hang out for 15-45 minutes doing cute baby things.

6. The Milkmeister goes down* for a nap. You can do fun things like wash bottles and hang out laundry.

7. Repeat.

Sounds simple, yes? Happens about 10% of the time.

*where? have never understood this terminology

THE OTHER 90% OF THE TIME YOU ARE THE DAM AND THE MILKMEISTER IS THE BUSTER. MILKMEISTER, NO!

Here is how her daytime routine actually goes:

1. The Milkmeister awakens, sometimes in a cute and peaceful fashion, but more often like the Kraken, with much roaring and thrashing of tentacles. If that happens you also awaken like the Kraken, in that you feel you are being attacked by pirates.

(The Milkmeister and I had a cup of tea with her great-uncle today, and he shared some grim yet surprisingly sound baby-rearing advice: “When you wake up, imagine you are on a battleship, and the ‘enemy submarine’ alarm has just gone off. You have to wake and do what must be done.”)

 

no, I DIDN’T THINK THIS POST WOULD HAVE SO MANY MILITARY REFERENCES. also you can’t see it in this PICTURE, but THERE IS A WIDE AWAKE BABY IN THE BACK SEAT OF THAT CONNING TOWER

 

2. Change the Milkmeister’s nappy while her bottle heats up.

3. Change the Milkmeister’s onesie because ‘surprise wees’ happened while the nappy change was in progress. If you’re lucky, you may also encounter a surprise poo while you’re lifting up her butt to frantically get a towel under her before the surprise wees reach the onesie (spoiler: they always reach the onesie).

Congratulations! Now you have poo on your hands.

 

CAUGHT BROWN-HANDED, AS IT WERE

 

4. Change your shirt, because the Milkmeister can get an impressive amount of distance on her surprise wees (and occasionally on her surprise poos, which leave her tiny body with the force and jubilation of an elderly person letting off a party popper).

5. Resume change of nappy.

6. Feed the Milkmeister. Just kidding, no you can’t! Because of the surprise wees and resulting costume changes, the Milkmeister’s bottle is now too hot. Also you maybe have to wash some poo off your hands. Here are your options:

  1. Cool the bottle under the cold tap while the Milkmeister roars in the background. Pros: quick solution. Cons: roaring.

  2. Entertain the increasingly furious Milkmeister for 5 minutes while the bottle cools to room temperature. Pros: no roaring. Cons: not quick, also probably there will be some roaring because a hungry Milkmeister is not about to be placated with some bullshit nursery rhyme.

 

“WHAT KIND OF QUESTION IS THAT? WHAT DOES HE LOOK LIKE HE’S COVERED IN, EGGS?” - THE MILKMEISTER

 

7. Feed the Milkmeister.

8. Burp. (Her, not you, although I suppose also you if you like.) Interestingly, while most things the Milkmeister does are scaled down to her size*, her burps are not; she produces burps that would be the envy of any middle-aged man**.

Also, because you lift her to your shoulder to burp her, she will regularly turn her head to you, gaze adoringly into your eyes, and - as you are thinking about what a wonderful baby you have created - burp right in your face then give you the biggest smile of her tiny life. Hmmm.

 

MILKMEISTER, NO!

 

(For those who are wondering what a baby burp smells like, have you ever put a milk bottle in the recycling bin in the heat of summer, but the milk bottle was not quite empty? The burp smells like the next time you open the recycling bin.)

*5.5kg, about the same as a slightly overweight adult cat

**this goes for the other end as well; the other day the Milkmeister farted in her sleep and my husband looked at me and said, “Ally!”

9. Cuddle the Milkmeister in an upright position for 15 minutes.

 

PLEASE RETURN YOUR BABY TO AN UPRIGHT POSITION FOR TAKEOFF AND LANDING.

 

The uprightness helps to sort out her tiny tube of a digestive system so she doesn’t fart herself awake later and ruin everybody’s day. Just kidding! You can dangle her from the ceiling for three hours and she’ll still fart herself awake later and ruin everybody’s day.

A little upright cuddle is nice though, because it gives the Milkmeister another opportunity to burp in your face. If you’re lucky, she will also spurt partially digested milk out of herself and you can have the fun of changing your shirt.

10. Hang out for 15-45 minutes while the Milkmeister does cute baby things. This is genuinely a really fun time because you can enjoy your Milkmeister for the tiny person she is! Here are some of the things you might do:

1. Go for a little dance around the living room while the Milkmeister beams at you. Your choice of music. The other day I said “Hey Johnny, lean on the bass and take that baby for a walk!” and then sung a jaunty walking bass line to the Milkmeister while we trundled round the lounge. Unfortunately my husband, who has no idea what a walking bass is because he is a philistine whose soul is devoid of jazz, said, “Milkmeister, your mum has gone mad.” Was he wrong?

2. Sing some songs to the Milkmeister while she peers into your mouth to see where the noise is coming from.

3. Read a story to the Milkmeister; the plot means nothing to her, but she enjoys the pictures and the overall experience. It’s like going to the movies when you’re drunk.

WE ENJOY DR SEUSS, ALTHOUGH SOME STORIES HAVE AGED BETTER THAN OTHERS.

 

4. Play with Christopher, who is a blue rabbit that hangs from the side of the Milkmeister’s bassinet and makes a pleasing jangle when beaten with tiny baby hands.

 

this is Christopher, I didn’t name him, it was on his tag. He has a friend called Thomas who is a raccoon sort of a chap. THE MILKMEISTER HAS A DEEP HATRED OF THOMAS AND I HAVE NO IDEA WHY.

 

5. Try to get the attention of the Milkmeister while she stares directly into a ceiling light for five minutes. Apparently this is developmentally normal but it feels rude.

11. Once the Milkmeister becomes tired, place her on yourself to sleep and allow her to remain in place for 30 minutes, because she won’t go to sleep in her bassinet unless she is in a deep sleep first. This is not the Milkmeister’s finest quality but can we really blame her for wanting a nice cuddle rather than a cold, lonely bed? I have made some truly horrendous romantic decisions based on very similar logic, and I am not even a baby.

If you have a handy baby sling, you can also use this time to write a blog!

 

this very blog, perhaps!

LABRADOR OPTIONAL, BUT RECOMMENDED, ROLAND LIKES THE MILKMEISTER AND WILL OFTEN LICK HER ON THE HEAD RIGHT AS SHE IS ABOUT TO GO TO SLEEP. THANK YOU, ROLAND.

 

12. Decant the Milkmeister very carefully into the bassinet. If you aren’t careful enough she will wake up, realise she is in the bassinet, and become Fully Awake and Incredibly Fucked Off By Your Bassinet Betrayal. If this happens, you must return to step 11.

But if it works - excellent! Well done on your successful decanting. What a fantastic parent you are. You are out of the woods, and you have the next 1-3 hours to do whatever you want and-

Ha ha, just kidding! You are not out of the woods. In fact, this part of the routine is peak woods. You are now so far into the woods that you might as well make yourself a name tag that says Hansel.

Here are some of the things that can happen next. Roll the dice!

  1. The Milkmeister remains fast asleep. This is the best case scenario! You can get on with other things while she snoozes like the adorable little bundle she is.

  2. The Milkmeister appears to be fast asleep, but wakes up five minutes later for no apparent reason, then starts waving her arms about like an adorable little kelp plant.

    This is cute, but you worry that she is not getting enough stimulation for her tiny brain to develop, so you take her out of the bassinet.

    You absolute fool. Now she is wide awake. If you had left her in there she probably would have fallen asleep again. Return to step 11.

  3. The Milkmeister remains fast asleep. You begin your next task (spoiler: it is washing bottles). After five minutes, Roland sees a courier and barks as if he has been jabbed with a cattle prod. The Milkmeister wakes. Return to step 11.

  4. The Milkmeister remains fast asleep. After five minutes, she discovers a painful bit of gas and wakes up in a blind rage. Return to step 11.

  5. The Milkmeister remains fast asleep. After five minutes, you hear the unmistakable noise of a poo arriving in the Milkmeister’s nappy. Return to step 11 via a brief detour of steps 2-5.

  6. The Milkmeister remains fast asleep. After five minutes, you hear the unmistakable noise of a poo arriving in the Milkmeister’s nappy, but when you check it you find it was the entirely mistakable noise of a beefy fart.

    This is an enormous fuck up on your part because now the Milkmeister is awake and you must… return to step 11.

  7. The Milkmeister remains fast asleep. The next time you walk past the bassinet you bumble into Christopher, who makes his cursed jangle and wakes the Milkmeister. Return to step 11.

 

FOR FUCK’S SAKE, CHRISTOPHER

 

And that is how our day goes!

At night it’s much the same except we pop her into a little sleeping bag that makes her look like a tiny stingray, there’s no hanging out because it’s the middle of the night, and Christopher is mercifully absent.

 

AND ALSO THE MILKMEISTER MIGHT DO A POO ON YOUR LEG AT 4AM.

 

*after I had written this I discovered that Christopher is actually Thomas, and Thomas is actually Christopher. Sincere apologies to the real Christopher, who is hanging** from the Milkmeister’s jungle gym and therefore does not jangle at inopportune moments.

**in a nice way