But since we've had the baby, I've pretty much dropped everything else I lay my hands on. Seriously.
Today, I have dropped: my phone (I was surprised to find it still works), my keys, a VERY sharp knife millimetres from my foot, a box of teabags and then lots of individual teabags while trying to pick them up to put back in the box.
I'm usually not a complete butterfingers, although I will freely admit that I couldn't reliably catch a tennis ball until I was about to attend secondary school. Catching's different though, you don't choose when the thing enters your hands. Under normal circumstances my dexterity does extend to hold things.
But not now. I am the newly crowned King of Letting Go. Lord of Lost Grip.
Has having a baby meant that ALL of my fingers' reserves of grip are being used up on The Creature? I don't walk around with him in some vice grip, knuckles whitened at the effort of holding his increasingly squirmy little body. Of course, I don't want to drop him (although, after reading @TomBriggs79's post about his paternity leave, I have wanted to check his Moro Reflex, which would require dropping him) but I really didn't think I was trying THAT hard not to.
I really don't know why I'm doing such a good job of losing my grip just now. But I do know it has brought into sharp focus exactly how scared I am of doing anything to hurt this little tiny person who lives in my house now.
As I type, he's lying on my lap (refusing to acknowledge the existence of night time, looking all cute and squishy, aaaaawwwwwww!) and I'm terrified. Mrs L is in bed, tired from a day of looking exactly like she knows what she's doing, handling the baby with confidence and skill, while I spend every moment with him in my arms wondering when my newfound penchant for dropping things will extend to letting him fall.
Terrifying, parenting.
