No more babies!

Why is it that when we are in new relationships the baby chemicals in our bodies try to tell us it would be a brilliant idea to have a baby?

Not just in women as I have found out the men can catch a dose of the baby making chemicals too, and I do not just mean the taking part in making one bit.

After many discussions some joking (from me) others I am not so sure about (from him), me and my boyfriend have agreed four children is enough for us.

Many of our friends have rolled their eyes and said ‘No, in a couple of years you will have another one.’ Although there is a flutter of a yes somewhere in my body, my brain is sensibly taking over and saying no.

I am done with the getting up in the night, with the potty training and crying. I have no desire to go back to the constant worry of having to watch a baby and pretend that i have a clue what I am doing- or so I thought until yesterday...

We have expanded our family, a baby peeing and keeping me up at night has entered our home in the form of a puppy.

Yesterday my boyfriend said he was going out, he told me he was going to get a puppy but I didn’t actually really believe him until a bundle of fur wrapped in a blanket was cradled in his arms after a seven hour round journey.

Hades (yes named after the ancient Greek God of the underworld, we are not ones for standard names obviously), became my new baby the second I set eyes on him.

He is the most beautiful Siberian Husky who has ever existed and my mothering instincts of looking after a baby have come flooding back, much to his and my families bemusement.

When the kids came and stroked him when he was on my lap, I was instantly protective when the little creatures were putting their hands all over my precious newborn. Me and my boyfriend agreed Hades should sleep downstairs- ha yea right!

Obviously the first few hours were going to be hard for him, so the second we heard him whimpering, we ran downstairs and brought him into our bed. We were making sure the kids got a good night sleep and did not get disturbed by him- that is what we told ourselves.

We played with him for about 10 minutes when he wriggled up next to me, aww we are bonding I thought-then the smell came. If you have ever smelt a dog fart you will know the stench is enough to make you sick, well, try having a dog poo literally 2 inches away from your face.

Off came the dog, bed sheets and duvet, I laughed, forgave the little monkey and crawled back into bed. We kept the en-suite light on in our bedroom so he would not be in the dark, however I can’t sleep with any sort of light near me, I moan when it creeps in through the crack in the door between the frame, so I turned it off- bad mother.

Hades decided he wanted my side of the bed, so I shifted down it until I was in the foetal position and told myself I was comfortable. Then the whimpering started, he got up had a wee and the settled back down again by my feet.

I won’t bore you but basically it was a very broken night of sleep with a lot of getting up and crying, but as a somewhat experienced mother (ha), I knew it wouldn’t last.

At ten to six I got up as he was hungry, (it was actually ten to seven but the clocks went back so I lost an hour and feel ten to six better describes the lack of sleep I had.

Now, our puppy is not just any puppy- there is no cheap dog food from a tin in our house. His diet is freshly cooked chicken and rice- yes I was cooking chicken and boiling rice at TEN TO SIX for a dog. They may be a man’s best friend, but he was not really mine at that moment in time. Luckily he has the cutest face, so my grumpiness did not last for long.

An hour later with Hades asleep in his bed in the living room with me, the pitter patter of tiny feet came down the stairs. Three very excited little girls came in squealing at him, I literally had to bat them away from him.

When a more normal time of day arrived and I felt more alive (12pm), I was ready to face the day and mummy my puppy.

I had the overwhelming urge every time one of the kids went near him to push them away from him, the pressures of being a mother to a baby hit me. If someone else held him, I had to stop myself from grabbing him off them. Every time he did a wee on the newspaper laid out for him, a sense of pride took over me. When he slept, I gazed at him and when he whimpered a cradled him like a baby and sang him a lullaby.

Writing this has been hard as I have had to tear myself away from him and I am dreading going back to work.

It seems the baby chemicals in my body have taken over, tomorrow I writing a blog called ’10 things to never say to the mother of a new puppy.’ Am I weird, or does this happen to every new puppy mother?