I am currently sitting eyes intensely glued to Ellie Mays baby monitor waiting and watching for the tell tale head toss and violent kicking of her comically short legs. She hasn’t eaten all her steak, egg and chips (milk) properly all day and the sand man is effectively out of work after poor performance in the sleep inducing department. Ellie May has FOMO, a deep seeded, in her DNA, can’t be weaned FEAR OF MISSING OUT.

Missing out on anything.

She will eat her carefully and lovingly prepared meal when she is half asleep, awake (don’t be ridiculous) be prepared to get covered in milk and dribble like the front row audience members at a quirky fringe performance, there is way too much to see beyond the bottle. Day time naps – Ha! Ellie May laughs in the face of the sandman and sends him packing. Life is much too exciting and distracting to be bedded down and drowsy. From the moment Ellie made her grand entrance onto the stage she calls life she was bright eyed and bushy tailed. She emerged from the bleachers (good grief) with eyes wide, a pensive/wonder filled look on her little yet slightly swollen face and hasn’t lived a day of her 94 days on earth any different.

She has a feed, play, sleep routine that she follows religiously but it is a self made routine resulting in unshowered, starving and dehydrated parents pulling faces, impersonating Muppets and working up a sweat moving her from one distraction station to the next. She knows I need the exercise so I’ll write that one off as her assisting me in the cardio department and leave her be.

We have spent weeks attempting to work out what was ‘wrong’ with her, why she cried when we put her in her bed – investigating day time sleep crimes was taking its toll. In the Baby routine system, nap based offenses are considered especially heinous. In Adelaide City, the dedicated detectives who investigate these vicious nap felonies are members of an elite squad known as the Special Sleeping Unit. These are their stories – DUN DUN’.

Why would she happily wolf down her bottle when there was deafening silence but scream bloody murder through the teats of her bottles if there was so much as a cat fart echoing in the room.

Suddenly it hit us, this child has FOMO. She is switched on, she will forever be ‘Keyhole Kate’ and we will spend our days frantically trying to smooth things over with friends and family when she introduces them to our closet full of skeletons. Whilst driving through the countryside today in jest my husband made a comment that suddenly I had to correct him with because although she is 3 months old I’m sure she is taking it all in. I don’t want her first words to be ‘mum why did you eat all the shortbread’ on repeat at childcare like a well trained parrot – I didn’t Ellie May, I’m on a diet.

For all the conversations we have to censor, dimly lit rooms we will feed in, daytime naps we will both miss out on (and me so desperately crave) we will have much more time to share as a little, slightly unhinged family. She will be nosey like her mum, ask too many questions like her dad and repeat things she should never – life will be fun and no day the same. From one FOMO mum to another – don’t forget, one day they will work out which words you are spelling out through gritted teeth so learn a foreign language.

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