So tomorrow Gabriele will be fifteen weeks and where has the time gone!? It’s only eight days until he can start eating solid food at four months old and I actually cannot wait! I’ve got my mini baby food processor waiting eagerly in its box in the baby cave. In my mind I’ve already vividly pictured myself in a floral apron, wooden spoon in one hand, cookbook in the other, blending up organic baby food and singing to the blue-tits at the window ledge much like a fantasy blend of Cinderella and Nigella Lawson; but in reality I think I’d be more of a Gordon Ramsey meets Simon Cowell, baggy pajama bottoms pulled up, worry lined face, no makeup and plenty of F-Word’s as I burn/over boil/break everything at stupid o’clock in the morning on five hours sleep. I can but dream.
So there was me telling everybody how much better Gabriele has been sleeping at night, as so far he’s definitely been a nighttime baby, as he seems so alert every time the moon shows its face. So now that I think he may be in some sort of a routine for the first time since he was born, and in order to track his progress I decided to note down each time Gabriele wakes up during the night for a feed. He never wakes up for no reason at all as once he’s initially down for the night he only stirs to squeak and wriggle, have a nappy change, bottle and a wind then he’s back down again.
So for the last seven days I’ve been monitoring his routine since he was fourteen weeks old and tomorrow he will be fifteen weeks. So let’s take a look!
Well I wasn’t expecting him to be so sporadic still as I honestly thought he had a better routine than this. On average he normally goes down at around nine-thirty at night and sleeps for three to four hours at a time with the odd hour or two of in between waking for farting/too hot/too cold/kicking off blankets etc. I hadn’t looked at the time throughout the night for months because I was so desperately tired with his constant waking before that just the knowledge of what time it was at night made it all the more harder to bare. But despite his routine being a bit awol I’ve been feeling so much better with his sleep patterns recently and now I can’t see why. I know of other people with babies of a similar age who say they go several hours at a time and sleep all night through and I wish I could say the same for Gabriele or brag “Well my son goes nine hours at night then wakes up and recites poetry to me!” but it is what it is. I’m going to keep a track of his sleep routine form now on until he manages to start going through the night out of interest to see how he progresses. Fingers crossed it will be sometime in the next eighteen years!
Now for the big weigh-in. Last night we had a few drinkies, BBQ, burgers, chips, pizza, chocolate, nibbles, and just about everything in the world that you know you should never eat but can’t seem to stuff into your mouth fast enough when you’re a little sozzled; and I can’t say that I was any better behaved with my food throughout the week really. I haven’t exercised; I’ve gone through enough chocolate to keep the staff at Cadbury’s employed for another four years, and I’ve had more than one take-away for dinner! Waking up this morning I felt absolutely fine but my stomach looked like a helium balloon and I was hoping it would be trapped wind and not a block of fat camouflaging my abs. I laughed to myself as I went to the toilet for a huge poo, trying to estimate the amount of weight I’d just discarded and I even delayed drinking a glass of water to rehydrate until after I got on the scales incase it added some extra last-minute weight. With a smirk I twinkle-toed over to the scales, standing in my underwear as upright as possible and trying not to hold my breath for fear that air in my lungs might push me to an extra pound. And then the screen flashed up in front of me – A TWO POUND GAIN! AFTER MY POO!!
Well I can’t say that I’m happy and I can’t say that I’m surprised after my piggy behaviour, but I can say it was fun and I enjoyed every bite. Looking at my body, my thighs look like porky sausages and stick out too far forward, my belly has also followed suit and sticks out further than it should and I should really start working out sharpish. I can almost feel my hips and ribs again, but not to the point of using them as a xylophone. I don’t want to be skeletal but I just want to shift a few more pounds, perhaps nine stones would be a happy weight if I can resist the junk long enough.
Maybe this week I’ll start working out, I just can’t seem to find the energy or enthusiasm to go bouncing around huffing and puffing after being up all day and night with the kids and a slave to the stove, work and the house all day. But I know that I’ll have to if I want to shed those last few pounds and tone up as my body has quite clearly refused to evict anymore flubber whilst I continue eating as I have done.
So maybe in a couple of weeks I might reach my 9st goal, or maybe I will still be here with my spare tyre plodding along. Who knows!? I wish I had a little extra energy to make the difference and in my mind I’m half tempted to join the gym down the road and go for an hour’s workout every morning at 5am when the kids and Luca are fast asleep and transform myself into a healthy athletic goddess. OR I could use the extra membership fee I would have spent at the gym more efficiently elsewhere by feeding my chocolate and Heat magazine addiction for a year! Decisions, decisions… x