My poor daughter was rudely awakened by a stark raving lunatic at 04:30 this morning…
I heard a small and unusual noise over my baby girl’s monitor this morning. In the same way that every wild haired, sleep deprived new mummy does at 4:30 am, I suddenly realised that she was choking.
MY BABY WAS CHOKING!
I literally jumped ten feet out of bed and dashed to a sprint into her bedroom at a speed that would have impressed Mr Bolt. I snatched her from her cot, popped her on my shoulder and started to pat her back.
I then realised she actually had the hiccups…
Have you ever felt embarrassed under the judging gaze of a five and half month old… I have.
It wasn’t a great moment.
So why the panic?
I have no idea!? The only reasonable conclusion is that I was mid-dream and mildly exhausted from lack of sleep and spending my days crawling all over the living room floor. My babe’s sweet little ‘hic’ woke me from my slumber and I was caught between a dream and reality, and that’s when all the capital letters started… MY BABY IS CHOKING!
Either that or am I just a first time mum who panics that everything that she does is right for her daughter. The constant decision making is exhausting… is she warm enough, too warm, hungry, wet? Has she had enough milk today?
Should we really be weaning her at five months old?
Should I really be letting her pull the cat’s tail?
I worry that if she doesn’t look clean or happy in public that people will think I neglect her. I worry that I don’t give her enough attention. I worry that I give her too much attention. I worry that I am getting her addicted to shiny things and modern technology at too young an age.
My husband and I are responsible for this tiny, precious, little creature who giggles and smiles at us all the live-long-day. She is the absolute love of both our lives.
Back in the land of reality, I quickly removed any choking hazard to her tiny little hand, kissed her nah-night and tucked her in REALLY tight… then went back to bed to lie there and ponder if she would remember my stupidity and undermine me as a teenager.
Maybe I am a lunatic!?
It certainly made me feel better about sacrificing two hours every Thursday night to take a free child and infant first aid course with the Sure Start Centre Crew.
What do you think – am I a lunatic?
Have you ever done anything quite that mad?
Thanks so much for reading: Judging and Lunacy in the Wee Hours