Meep. Meep.

There is a classic scene in Roadrunner… he has just run straight over a cliff and it takes him a few minutes to realise that he is no longer on solid ground, and he is in fact running on thin air. He stops, looks at the camera, gulps.

‘Meep meep’

And then gravity takes over.

That’s me right now.  Except I am not a bird. 

And I am physically incapable of running.

And my legs are not that skinny.

Otherwise, the analogy is spot on.

For the first seven weeks of Baldy Baby’s life I have been racing through the two hour feeds, the broken and insufficient night sleep, the relentlessness that comes with a new baby.  I have been (not so) silently congratulating myself on not only surviving, but thriving, welcoming the comments from surprised friends who ask ‘How are you doing? You look… good!’

It turns out that for the past week I have been running on thin air and not yet realised it.

Gravity is a bitch for the Roadrunner.  Gravity is not my friend either, but for a different reason, but for me it is the lack of sleep that has finally caught up with me, sending me to a cartoonish splat in the middle of the proverbial desert.

And I thought I was doing so well.

Meep Meep.

Splat.

 

I am well aware this isn't the cartoon RoadRunner. I wasn't sure if I was legally allowed to
use his picture.  This one is from Creative Commons.  Not as good, I know.... but you get the point.