Jumping Through Puddles

I have to be honest. Drew has been a dream recently. I have been gayly jumping and splashing around in puddles, metaphorically, for a fair number of weeks now.

Wearing my bright coloured wellies and holding my matching umbrella, I have been frolicking through crystal clear pools of water, kicking droplets into the air so the Spring sunshine glistens through...quietly humming nursery rhymes and songs from Jolly Babies...

Not a care in the world...

I didn't notice the big greyish puddle in front of me. The one with an odd looking froth round the perimeter. The one with no sun on it.

I never saw it coming.
(I'm still talking metaphorically for those of you who have this vision of me dancing in wellies with an umbrella. Not JUST wellies and an umbrella you understand. I mean as well as my normal clothing, I am wearing wellies and carrying an umbrella...metaphorically speaking).

So back to my metaphoric ramble...

I step innocently forward, only to find myself neck-deep in the big dirty puddle. My wellies no longer protecting my legs from the wet, but acting only as a container...making sure my legs are well and truly soaked through! The water is cold, smelly and I gasp to catch my breath. The dirty froth bobs around my body and I get a whiff as it splashes onto my face. The umbrella turns inside out sinks as if it knows there is no way out from this sinking wet pit.

Yep...you think you have got your baby's routine sorted and for no reason at all...WHACK! Someone slaps you around the face with a big wet fish and says 'Oh no you don't...try this for size!"

For what seems no reason at all, your baby's routine goes completely haywire, she wakes when she normally sleeps, she cries when normally she will play. You start losing sleep, you don't know whether she needs a feed, a sleep or play and whether she needs more food and so you can't leave the house because you can't plan anything. You manage to cook a meal for that evening but it takes all day and its all gone a bit dry. And then your partner, who returns from the office right at the end of the day to metaphorically rescue you from the deep wet puddle, says the worst thing possible...'I'm sure it will be fine. Shall we have a curry tonight?'