The End of an Era!


Well, we have officially entered our last fortnight in our house.

Felix's pre-natal Father's Day gift

The first house me and my baby’s father lived in, the house I spent my pregnancy in, the house I went into labour in and the house I bought my son home in. There’s a lot of memories tucked into these old, dusty, run down walls.

Of course, this house has also had the longest record of complaints i’ve ever made to a landlord… be it broken taps, a gas leak, a roof falling in, or the excessive water bill (to name but a few) it’s sure showing it’s 60-odd years of existance! And still, i’m finding it hard to say goodbye to this place. It’s served us well, being cheap, with a big garden and no pet restrictions, the perfect spot.

We’ve began packing, and with it has come the biggest shot of nostalgia i’ve had since giving birth. Packing away my most treasured baby-Felix toys meant making the heartbreaking decision to either chuck it or keep it for a future child… A decision I was certainly not prepared for! Each flannelette had me thinking of his first bath, each toy of the reason it was gifted, each chewed up book of the first page he turned.

Felix covered in lipstick-kisses after my first modelling shoot as a Mama

I’m an utter sop when it comes to memories. I know and accept this.

The curious thing I have found about parenting is, men do not seem to have such strong attachments to baby memories as women. Be it his first crawl, first tooth, first birthday, his father has never seemed as mind-boggled as me. Why is this? Sure, in the first month I found myself distinctively more in tune with my baby than his father, as would be expected for someone who has spent 9 months washing in a bath of super-charged hormones. But surely by the age of 16 months this initial hormone boost would have worn off?

However, time and time again I find myself being ridiculed for my unneccesary attachment to the little peg that cut his umbilical cord, and teased for my inability to watch a birth scene on TV without welling up some tears.

I plan to look into this. Is this distanced approach an all-men thing? Are parents equally emotionally connection to their children? Leave some thoughts below 🙂