NS February 28th, 2007

Amelia has taken to lifting up my shirt and poking my fat rolls. Then she laughs hysterically. Today she reared her little head, lifted up my shirt, and with all 12 of her teeth, bit one. And again, laughed hysterically.

Nine months of pregnancy, the last three of which were horrendously uncomfortable and painful, an 11-hour labour, two of which were spent trying to push her 9-lb self out of my body and which resulted in my hooha being sliced and diced by the butcher, I mean surgeon, and then weeks of breastfeeding so painful that I had to scream MOTHER!!!!!…and then bite my hand and cry to avoid finishing the word, and this is the thanks I get? I’ll have her know that my rolls were not quite so prominent before she came along and the dreaded ‘baby shelf’ of fat plopped itself permanently on my lower abdominal region.

Kids — they’re not here to boost our self esteem, that’s for sure.

• Antics of The Noble Child
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