Throughout my pregnancy with DD I assumed I'd be an Earth Mother; all cheesecloth and demand feeding. I faithfully read Secrets of the Baby Whisperer from cover to cover and dreamed of life without a routine, going with the flow, letting DD lead the way. I also assumed the birth would be natural and she'd go to term, so shows how much I knew. Life just ain't like that for us. And I was also kidding myself if I thought that a type-A, serial list-making, certifiable control freak manager would become a hippy-mummy over night.
But it DID come as a surprise when I realised this week while idly flicking through Gina Ford's The Contented Toddler Years that DD is, in fact, a Gina Ford toddler.
Now when DD was born routine was pretty much our life. As she was premature and only four pounds this necessitated 2-hourly feeds round the clock and she pretty much refused a bottle from the get-go. The bags under my eyes weren't suitcases, they were skips. At one point I even started hallucinating. (I thought I saw my bed with me sleeping in it.) There was no question of trying to get her onto the 7-7 routine that Ms Ford raves about and in any case I'd been completely turned off her theories in my going-to-be-an-earth-mother stage.
But yesterday while I perused the routines for a 33 month old, I realised that DD is textbook. Up between 6.45am and 7am, in bed by 6.45pm to 7pm. Lunch between 12.30 and 1pm, tea at 5pm, upstairs for her bath by 5.45pm. Like I said, textbook.
How did we do this? Beats me. But it rocks.
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