As I stop and think on how tough this week has been, I also realise just how lucky I am.
This week I've barely left the house, I've physically spoken to very few people. There are a number of reasons for this, but the most stressful part has been a very grumpy, whingey, unsettled, hard to please 9 month old.
I can honestly count on one hand how many days I have felt I wanted a do over since he came into our world. But this week I have wanted bedtime to arrive within an hour of waking up every single day. Every single day.
It's definitely been a shit week, with tiny moments of joy brought about from the wonderful humorous messages received from friends and the rare toothy grins and kisses from the wrigglebum.
But, despite the shittiness (yes that is a real word), I'm incredibly lucky. He's 9 and a half months old and it's taken this long to have a week like this. I don't know why he's been like this, and I never will, but it's wonderful to have made it this far with a sunny smiley and content baby with no health problems who brings joy to my day, every single day. Every single day. That's amazing.
He's moving on to a whole new chapter in his life soon, a chapter which will see him become even more independent, which will see him go from strength to strength. I will miss seeing him do this as I need to return to work. It makes me sad that I may miss out on so many 'firsts'. But... I remind myself during this tough time...
I'M SO LUCKY.