The Inner Monologue of Leaving The House With Baby

Let me set the scene. Paternity leave is a twinkle in your eye. You are bemused, knackered and starving. There is no food in the house. You have run out of coffee. This is an emergency, you have to actually LEAVE the house, and take the small creature with you. Here is my Inner Monologue of just this situation.

*Lays prone on sofa with sleeping baby sprawled on chest*

God I could use a coffee. We need more coffee, making a coffee in the empty coffee jar hoping that somehow essence of coffee might have permeated the glass and be willing to be reabsorbed into the hot water was a disaster, if I don’t get coffee in the next hour I may fall asleep and never wake up and then social services will get wind of it and lock me away. Better get up.

*Attempts to move baby. Baby wakes up. Baby is hungry*

Ow. Ow. Ow. When will my boobs stop feeling like cheese grated cannonballs? Are you finished? Really? Was that it…oh no. No! I know that look! Ahh, there it goes. Right, let’s both get changed shall we? How the hell did you get it on the sofa? And my socks?? This is a new personal best Baby. Are there competitions for world’s most jet propelled bottom?

*Changes self, Baby, and wipes sofa and floor hopefully*

Right lets pop you in the vibrating chair of magic for five minutes. Where’s the changing bag? Right, let’s check in here. Will 7 nappies be enough? I should put an extra baby grow in. And another pack of wipes. And the sudocrem, calpol and teething gel. I’ll take my book, Baby might have a nap in the pram. Oh and my charger. Should I take my laptop?

*Lifts bag and places on pram. Pram catapults over from weight of bag*

Gah! Thank god I hadn’t put Baby in there! Maybe I won’t take my charger and laptop just for a quick shop and possible coffee shop IF he sleeps trip. What’s the weather doing? Raining? Bugger. I can’t carry an umbrella and push as well my steering is crap at the best of times and we’ll never survive Dog Poo Alley unscathed without both hands on the bar. Where is hell is my anorak? And the rain cover?

*Spends 20 minutes looking for rain cover and anorak. Locate both in bath upstairs*

God I can never get this bloody thing on the pram…oh…no that’s my anorak that’s not going to go on the pram is it. I hope my brain will recover at some point, this relentless stupidity is really quite worrying. Right, lets get Baby.

*Picks up Baby. Baby spews everywhere*

Don’t cry don’t cry, lets get changed again, it’s perfectly acceptable to just baby wipe it off myself as long as he is in clean stuff.

OK Mr Clean Babygro, in you go. Where is your crunchy book? And Sophie Le Fucking Giraffe? Godsake!! Oh, bottom of pram, under three old bagged nappies. Mmm, lovely.

Ok, anorak is good for hiding sick stains, let’s go Cisco!

*Opens door. Blinded by sunlight*

The world hates me. Where are my sunglasses?

*Leaves house. Baby cries. Walks faster. Ignores Baby*

Shit. I’ve forgotten my wallet.


27 thoughts on “The Inner Monologue of Leaving The House With Baby

  1. I definitely remember that stage well. Happily we are now in the stage where all of that faffing about time is taken up with trying to wrestle a toddler into a coat and shoes. #tribe

  2. This is brilliant. I remember this so well – the rain cover would always be the bath and E would always be sick/have a poonami as soon as I dressed her in something clean. I’m loving these inner monologues, so very funny xx #triballove

  3. Oh this was funny but also almost made me cry…I don’t want to go back there again!! Mind you I’m hoping I’ll pack a bit more this time…I was always the one having to borrow a nappy or wipes or fashioning new baby clothes out of scarves and napkins. Very funny post! #triballove

  4. Ha! This is still me – and baby J just loves a nappy explosion just before we leave making us late for EVERYTHING! xx ps – took me 4 weeks to work out our rain cover had velcro sides and that’s why I could never get the bloody thing on.

  5. Brilliant! I get total nappy panic and have a standard 5-8 nappies PLUS a bonus 3 just shoved in a side pocket, refilled as soon as I use one, so the original 5-8 are probably mouldy by now. Idiot mother. Need coffee.

  6. Oh I remember that. How you can be completely unprepared for walking around the block is beyond me, but I managed it. Forgot the purse, the baby, any spare material to mop up sick. Check, check and check. #chuclemums

  7. I enjoyed the way you wrote this and have definitely lived it. They need to invent some kind of rain cover bubble that goes over us while we push the pram. The amount of times I have got soaked while she looks all smug in her pram. I have tried the one-handed umbrella push and it was NOT wise. #Chucklemums

  8. Haha, I remember this well. I once was so intent on not forgetting anything like baby, pram, coat, all the random crap, that I had forgotten that I had put my phone on top of the car. I drove off and got to the traffic lights and suddenly remembered what I had done. Cue a frantic me jumping out to find that somehow the phone was still there! Says a lot about how s-l-o-w-l-y I must drive. Ugh *shudders* I need to read this post anytime I start getting broody!!! #chucklemums

  9. I am in the stroller stage now; the lighter the better; hence it flips over all the time. I load up the handles and kaboom; toddler flip. I have had people running from all corners to help…bad (red faced) mummy! #chucklemums

  10. Yep this does definitely get much easier…maybe more frustrating with a toddler/young kids refusing to wee, losing their shoes etc..but it’s less complex…less unknowns. That said I rarely leave the house without leaving behind something crucial. I say rarely, I mean NEVER. Happy days. #chucklemums

  11. God I hated that shitty/pukey stage. The worst was when I had a newborn and a 21-month old – frankly it’s a miracle we ever left the house. Before having kids I never appreciated how easy it was to “just pop out”.

  12. Haha you sound better than me at getting out of the house! Also, I recommend spending all your spare cash bulk buying coffee!


  13. Oh yes, this made me laugh! It is absolutely what used to happen. At the time you’re just thinking: this IS NOT funny, but as soon as you recount it, it just SO IS! Just keep breathing and smiling! Alison #chucklemums

  14. Ha ha ha. This is scarily accurate. Especially the bit about the 7 nappies, sudocream….I have been known to have two outfit changes in my change bag (why???) When I was two weeks old, we tried to leave the house at 10am and left at 5pm. x #chucklemums

  15. Ha! Oh yep, I can relate! These days my efforts to actually get out of the door takes 3 times as long, as once thats all done with the baby there’s then the 1 year to chase around (if crawling at speed was an olympic sport, he’d be a gold medallist) and capture, and the 3 year old who thinks shoes are the devils work and should be avoided at all costs – fun. Its rarely worth the hassle. Hermit life is the way forward! #chucklemums

  16. Haha been there! I like the vibrating chair of magic – when my son was small, we put him in the little rocker on top of the washing machine for final spin. Just what all the pamphlets didn’t say when you took baby home. He only flew across the room once before we put him on the more gentle delicate cycle. You’ve really summed up motherhood Sarah. Jo 🙂

  17. Jeeps, your post really brought back some memories (arrrrgh) we lived in a maisonette in London during these times and we had a flight of stairs to negotiate just to leave the house. If I forgot anything I’d have to traipse up and down again like a yoyo with tiny person(s) and often the whole outing would be banjaxed. Another fab parenting inner monologue nailed. #chucklemums

  18. So funny. Reminded me of the times when I discovered poo filled nappies tied up in bags under the pram or in the bottom of the nappy bag. Oh the shame!! Love this post x #chucklemums

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