All tagged baby

#WCW - Growing a Human

Do you ever come across a page on the internet and you realise that the person behind it is your long lost soulmate? Well, that happened to me when I discovered the Growing A Human blog. Peta, the mastermind behind the page, is all the things I wish people would think I am - funny, cute, clever, down to earth, self aware and all the other words that basically add up to spell LEGEND. We’ve chatted to her about what it takes to survive, and thrive, when you have a baby at fifteen (or any age for that matter). We hope you love her as much as we do.

The one about anger.

I’ve been a right bitch the last few months. If my middle brother were reading this he’d yell at me for using that word. But he can barely read my text messages so I’m pretty sure he’s not reading my blogs. If you don’t like that word here are some others - an arse hole, a cow, a meanie, a bully, a butt face, a shit head, a knob, a general boob. All I’m trying to say is I think I’ve just been a bit of a horror to live with lately.

The one about the village.

When I was three months pregnant, my husband and I moved in with my parents. We did this for a few reasons, but one of the big ones was that I couldn’t work while I was pregnant and needed a lot more help being a human than usual. My baby is now four months old and we’re looking to buy a new place and leaving the safety of my parents’ home. As anyone who’s ever done any kind of house hunting will tell you, it’s a clusterfuck of hideousness - but aside from all that it’s got me thinking.

The one about families.

Family, to me, has always felt an odd concept. When I was a kid, there was my mum and me (and 3 dogs, 2 cats, numerous birds, later rescued wildlife, and money trees). We lived in a little cottage with two rooms. My mum drove (a pretty racy) 2-door Toyota Celica. We were two girls, looking out for ourselves. Thelma and mini-Louise (minus Brad Pitt).

The one about being tired.

I don’t think I’ve ever been so tired. The kind of tired I feel these days sits in the pit of my stomach, and drains me of excitement and energy, and willingness to do so many things. I don’t actually remember the last time I slept for more than 3 hours in one stretch. And, it seems, that there is no end in sight.

The one about fear.

I love me a horror movie. Like, really very seriously it's my favourite genre. I also enjoy crime fiction and true crime podcasts - my husband and I listened to them at bedtime before the baby arrived, but now we're never in bed at the same time. What I'm trying to say is, I'm completely obsessed with manufacturing fear from the comfort of my bed.

The one with the feminists.

In November 2016, I was 7 months pregnant and watched, with absolute disbelief as Trump was named POTUS. Not nearly 12 months later, the accusations against Harvey Weinstein came to light, and the things every woman has known about, felt, or experienced firsthand - at the hands of men - became part of the public discourse ...

The one about indecision.

I recently read this New York Times article about the very modern fear of becoming a parent. It delves into the reasons behind this fear - indecision, financial insecurity, memories of your own difficult childhood - and examines the new services springing up to help struggling singles and couples make up their minds.

The one about the female body.

I'm not totally sure I've ever properly had a relationship with my body. Maybe, if pressed, I'd say I had mostly a neutral or beige relationship with my skin suit. Like, it houses my consciousness - which I adore it for - but beyond giving a home to everything that makes me a human I don't pay it much mind …