Читать книгу The Mumpreneur Diaries: Business, Babies or Bust - One Mother of a Year - Mosey Jones - Страница 7

Baby, meet world. World, meet baby.

We bring Boy Two home at 2 am this morning after a mere seven hours in hospital. I think it’s something of an achievement that the midwife is so happy to shoo us off home barely two hours after the birth. The Husband is less pleased as he sees his Star Wars DVD marathon evaporate, to be replaced by the carrying of many cups of tea and biscuits (essential for Mummy’s milk) and by telephone/email duty.

My sister and her boyfriend came down from London yesterday on the off-chance that something might happen. By 7 pm I was having contractions three minutes apart while simultaneously trying to teach my desperately undomesticated sibling how to make sauce for Boy One’s cauliflower cheese.

‘How will I know when the sauce is thick enough?’

‘When it starts getting lumpy again. Chuck in a splash of milk and take it off the heatnnnnngggHHHHHHH!’

‘And when do I add the cheese?’

‘When all the luuuUUUUUuumps are gone.’

‘Are you OK?’

‘Just having a baby, otherwise fi-uuuuuhhhhhh!’

‘Shouldn’t you call the hospital to see if you need to go in?’

‘Mmmmppfffffffffffffffffffffffff!’

Now I’m lying in our bed at 3 am with our new 8 lb scrap of humanity snortling away between us. His 35 lb, three-year-old brother is snoring just as loudly in his bed, which has been transplanted to the foot of ours from next door, where he’d been ousted by my own sibling combo. Too knackered to sleep I watch the baby snooze. He is the image of his father, who is also out for the count (why are men never too exhausted to catch 40 winks?). All of a sudden I feel quite grown up, quite…responsible. With one child you can almost get away with pretending it was a bit of an accident, or that you aren’t really a parent, you’re just playing at mummies and daddies. I find myself trying out the phrase ‘my children’ to see how it fits. Sounds big. Sounds fun. Sounds expensive. Bugger.