Mumfidential.com - 8th January 2015
As any new mother will tell you, life with a baby is hard. The simplest acts – leaving the house, doing some shopping, going out for lunch – ones that you used to take for granted, now become infinitely challenging, thwarted by exploding nappies, wind, sick, nap times, meal times, bed times and an awful lot of stuff. Add a small, rather hairy Border Terrier to the mix and things start to get really fun, especially if you live in a top floor maisonette with no lift.
Scrabble, known fondly (pre-baby) as the “Border Terrorist”, was a 30th birthday present from my mother three years ago. Very much my first baby, my husband and I worried about how she would react when Martha appeared on the scene this May. Not well, as it turned out. Morphing from a happy, playful little soul, into a suffocatingly clingy creature, she would lie mournfully on my feet as I breast-fed, sneak in to lie beside my side of the bed at night and stare at me all day with an agonised look in her eyes that said “HOW COULD YOU BETRAY ME?!”
Terrorised by Martha’s colicky cries, she took to barking intermittently throughout the night. In fact, no sooner had we settled our human baby than our doggy one would start up. We may as well have had twins.
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