It seems kind of ironic that I am sitting here at 2.38am, writing about the deliciousness of having a five-month-old baby, while the cherub in question sits at my feet in his bouncer, sucking loudly on his dummy and refusing to go back to sleep after downing a massive bottle and weeing all over the couch. But that just goes to show you HOW delicious babies are at this age. Even I, sleep deprived and cranky as I am, can overlook the downsides in the face of such blinding cuteness.
Our latest quickies update is the usual grab-bag of ex issues, dating debacles and other bits and bobs. If you’ve got a short attention span, this column is for you. (Feel free to add your two cents’ for the letter-writers in the comments.)
As a parent, you have a lot of opportunities to be smug. Maybe because your kid is sitting up before every other kid in his age group. Or sleeping from 7pm to 7am at 9 weeks. Or going in the car seat without a peep, napping like a champ, letting anyone pick him up… and so on. But being smug about ANYTHING to do with your baby pretty much guarantees a huge about-turn. The bubba knows you’re getting all smug and comfortable and happy that life is in a routine of sorts – and mark my words, he’s thinking, Crap. Can’t make it too easy on the parentals. Time to shake things up.
Almost a month ago, I met this French guy who was showing some interest in me even though he knew I’m married. He told me that he’s going back to France for good in 2 weeks so I decided to ask him out for lunch.
2014 was a huge year for me – and my little blog. I released Get Lucky, the sex advice book co-written with Pip Harry. I had a baby. And I answered a huge amount of letters. Here’s a little flashback of the best from the RC Mailbag, if you’re new to the site or only have the chance to pop in occasionally.
… or champagne. Or eggnog. Or amaretto on the rocks (mmmm!) Mr Chick, Charlie Bear and I are looking forward to the bubba’s first Christmas with my family at the beach this year. I’m sure it’ll involve lots of swimming, sleeping (here’s hoping) and squealing as his cousins unwrap their pressies (and Charlie just tries to eat the wrapping paper).
I am a 20 year old guy who is in a bit over his head. I’ve been dating this girl for over 4 years now and recently proposed to her. I love her to death, but I can’t help feeling distant. I think I may be in this relationship for her not myself, and while I can see myself being happy with her and starting a family and growing old and all that, at the same time, if I am bored now am I crazy to go ahead?
For the first time ever, I don’t care if I don’t get a single present – because I’ve already got the best present I could ever get, and he’s currently sitting at my feet in his bouncer having a snooze.
I’m 39, a mum and I recently finished a relationship with a man (also a dad) I was seeing for over a year. We were both out of long-term relationships when we met and had a lot in common, so we fell pretty hard for each other. For the first time in years I felt I’d met a man I could trust, who loved me unconditionally. He wrote me pages of love letters and poetry, and we spent every minute together. Our kids also got on pretty well. I never saw even a moment’s anger – until the day we were at the park with his teenage step daughter, who has Aspergers.
I read somewhere that all the hormones leave your body three months after giving birth and it’s around about then that new mums hit the wall, can no longer cope with all the sleep deprivation and become grumpy beeyatches. Who knows if there’s something in it but can I just say… I AM SO TIRED. So tired. Sotiredsotiredsotired. At the moment my days feel like trying to swim through quicksand and much as I love my little bear, I just crumple when he goes to bed. Correction: I crumple after the 20 times I have put the dummy back in his mouth and patted him back to sleep and he’s finally gone down for the …
I have been seeing my boyfriend for six months, living together a month – and I’m realising he has a real problem with alcohol. He drinks to get drunk and drinks until he passes out. The next morning he drinks anything available again and then stays in the bedroom with the curtains drawn chatting to his friends on Facebook and watching videos (and playing online poker if he has any money left after the alcohol). If I go to meet a friend, when I get back it’s likely he’ll have a few of the lads over getting drunk again, and so it goes on.
Dear Charlie Well, you’re almost 3 months old now. It’s been both the longest and shortest three months of my life. And the most challenging. And also, the best. Every day I love you more. I love you so much I’m terrified by how much. It’s probably not right to love a little person as much as I love you. But still, I do. I love it when you’re beaming, pressing your little fat hands together in joy. Your big blue eyes light up and you captivate anyone and everyone who sees you mid-grin. “He’s so cute!” I hear all the time. I have to agree. Maybe I’m biased, but …