Charity Shop Parenting Woes & Lows

My head is ringing with the sound of whinging.  Today has been a challenge.

If you hadn’t heard me proclaim it from the twitter rooftops, Levi has been a bit under the weather this week.  A combo of clocks going forward, teething and supreme heat have knocked the little guy for six. 

  

(Left: wee red cheeks / Right: total sickness stares going on)

I’ve lost some sleep and changed some horrifically rancid nappies, ones that actually stung my eyeballs right into the retina, but I was holding it together.  Until today.

I wanted to get him (and myself) out of the house and coupled with the fact that I am frantically trying to find something to wear to a wedding next week, I thought we’d take a drive to Banbridge (about 10 min drive) and check out the charity shops there as they are usually not on my normal scout.

I parked up outside the first one and (stupidly) decided to carry Levi into the shop in my arms instead of the pram or the sling (DOH!).  In the words of Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman “BIG mistake. HUGE”.  He was doing that classic, pushing himself out of my arms thing but then screaming bloody murder when I put him down anywhere.  So I finally got him settled enough to have a little crawl on the floor as I scanned the racks.  I picked out a few items and asked for the fitting room.  The lady told me I could just use the loo. 

And by loo she meant a cupboard with a toilet in it.  And no mirror.  Thanks lady.

So, in Levi and I went.  I sat him on the carpeted floor (ewwwww) beside the loo (parenting low point) and managed to get one dress on before he tried to climb up the toilet and fell and hit his head on the sanitary disposal unit (even bigger low).  Cue crazy crying, frantic undressing, redressing and scooping up of baby.  I shoved all the clothes back on the rail, gave the lady a bit of a ‘yikes’ eyeroll and promptly left.

We drove straight home and I apologised profusely to him the whole way.  He really could have done without being out of the house today.  My bad.  Oh the guilt and glamour of motherhood eh?

Anyway, Dave was having a little google about some common behaviour traits at 10 months and apparently this is the time where babies can really have separation anxiety, which would explain the constant whining and clingyness.  Has anyone else experienced this?  Any tactics?

Regardless, he’s been getting plenty of tlc and a good old cold carrot to munch on. Who doesn’t love a carrot?

Mel