Television

I haven't watched much television in my short lifetime. Mum and dad have read the reports recommending younguns like me stay away from it until we're a lot bigger.

But every now and then I sneak a peak.

Like tonight, I was sitting on dad's lap in the loungeroom. I had been squirming around and whinging a little bit, and he moved me around to find a comfy place on his lap. I soon stopped whinging, and he got back to watching the TV. A couple of minutes later it dawned on him that the reason I was quiet was that I was engrossed in watching the telly too!

I sometimes sit with dad when he's playing playstation games, and he positions me so I'm facing him, and not the telly. But I can do all sorts of tricky moves to sneak a peak.

Job done

Phew.


We were all starting to wonder if I was ever going to poo again. I did. And boy, was it worth the wait!

I timed it just before dad went to work, and just as well, because it was a two person cleaning up job. A couple of Hazmat suits wouldn't have gone astray either. It was smelly!

Sorry to go into all this detail about my bodily functions, but we've all been waiting for this event for the best part of a week.

Dad was holding me at the time, and he knew something was up when I stopped cooing and put on my 'serious' face. I grunted, I farted, and I did something else. Luckily I'm wearing my new 'crawler' nappies, with a much bigger payload area, so everything was safely contained.

They say breast fed babies can go up to a couple of weeks without needing to poo. I guess the milk is that good, and we're growing that much, there's not a lot of waste material. Or maybe it's just that we're too busy to stop and concentrate.

Here's looking at you

Halfway through a feed today I discovered something I'd never noticed before.

Mum.

Yeah, sure you see ads on the telly where the baby is feeding and gazing into their mummy's eyes, but that never happened around here, until today. I've always been a bit too interested in looking at the ceiling, or just concentrating on feeding, or staring into space. But today I looked up and saw mum and gave her a big grin.

She said it warmed her heart.

Of course, it distracted me so much that I stopped feeding and started grinning. And then I thought of a game to play. The 'smile at mum, have a drink, smile at mum, then have a another drink' game.

Poo watch; still waiting.

New duds

Another milestone today.

I've upsized to new nappies! Out with the 'newborn' ones and in with the 'crawler'. Not that I'm crawling yet.

They're a little big on me, just like the 'newborns' were when I was....Newly born!

I'm yet to christen these new duds...Four days and counting, it's going to be a beauty when it arrives.

Now, onto more serious issues. I'm still not sleeping very well. During the day or night. It's driving mum a little crazy, and having two emotional wrecks in the house isn't doing much for dad's sanity either! Last night I fell asleep on dad's shoulder after what seemed like an eternity of wailing. It was only an hour or so, but the later at night, the longer it seems. I eventually fell asleep, and so did he. I woke up a lot chirpier than he did and I saw him add a little extra coffee into his mug at breakfast time.

Doing stuff

We're still waiting for some action in my nappy. Mum's a bit scared to even go out for a walk in the park. In the three-and-a-bit months I've been alive we haven't really had much of a social life. Our days are usually spent around the house*, apart from the odd trip to the park or the shops or the beach. But it hasn't always been like this. I have been to a few exciting events while safely tucked up in mum's tummy.

Here's five things I did;

Went to Vossy's last game at the Gabba
Went to U2 concert (I would have definately heard it too!)
Went to the first day of the Ashes test match
Went to the first beach cricket competition with Viv Richards and Alan Border
Went to the Quiksilver Pro surf contest

It might be a little while before I can enjoy going to the footy or the cricket, but in the meantime dad will busy himself teaching me all the rules...

*especially when waiting for a big explosive poo.

A watched bottom doesn't...

Number twos have been a little rare around here lately. That means it's only a matter of time until an explosive event.

Before we went out this morning dad put me on my change table and waited.

And waited.

"Come on, do a poo" he'd say, like a coach willing his team to score a goal. Needless to say, nothing happened. So we decided to go out.

We stocked my nappy bag with an extra set of clothes, we even had a getaway plan, parking the car in an easy to reach spot. We knew what to do, because unfortunately this kind of thing has happened before.

We got home, I had a sleep, I had a feed, and I had a bath. Still no nappy action.

Dad says he's surprisingly happy to be going off to work tomorrow morning, being a Monday and all...I wonder why?!

Sleeping in the big bed

Dad's been explaining to me why I need my sleep.

He says I am a bit like his mobile phone. The battery runs down quickly, but it charges quickly too. I need my sleep to recharge after I've used up all my energy looking at the ceiling fans and discovering what my arms can do.

Unfortunately my daytime sleeping patterns are a little on the erratic side. And the short side too!

Over the months we've tried a few sleeping strategies, and even recommended some to other people, even ones we haven't quite gotten around to trying ourselves. I like any strategy, as long as it requires me getting out of the cot and into mum and dad's bed!

Now, we need to make it clear we're not hippies, we didn't have a lotus birth, we haven't hand made nappies from recycled car tyres, and the closest thing we've gotten to 'elimination communication' is laugh at farts. But mum and dad have been known to let me hop in bed after first breakfast. I'll often sleep for another three hours if I'm allowed to, and nobody argues with three extra hours sleep around here.

Seven to One

I've really started to enjoy my baths.

I have a bath every night now as part of my going to bed ritual. When I first got home I only had one every few days as I wasn't too keen on hopping in the water, and I wasn't getting too dirty. Not that I'm running and jumping in the mud these days, but I do tend to spew and dribble all over myself during the day, and there's nothing like a nice warm bath before bed too soothe a little soul.

Anyway, during my latest bath mum and dad noticed I spend most of my bathtime looking at dad. Dad was rather chuffed. So he decided we should havea smiling competition. Of course.

The rules were simple, whoever got the most smiles from me would be the winner. They both grinned and coo'd and generally acted like gooses, encouraging me to smile at them. I'm sure all sorts of promises were made. When it got to four nil, mum thought we should swap sides, thinking I might prefer whoever was standing on the left hand side of the bath. They swapped, and dad got three more smiles! Finally I flashed one at mum.

Seven to one. Dad wins.

I'm not sure what this means. But it certianly made for an entertaining bathtime. And dad's already planning the next LLR HQ competition. If we're not careful he'll buy a trophy to play for...

When I see you smile

A few weeks ago everyone was concerned I wasn't smiling enough.


Now I can't stop!


I've got more smiles than flavours at Baskin and Robbins. Some of the memorable ones are;


The Big Wide Open smile; this only seems to come out on special occassions.

The Bashful smile; usually flashed at dad when he's being goofy.

Sticky Tongue Out smile; ofen a gurgly smile accompanied with squeals of delight

The Big Closed Grin; I'll pull thi one out when I'm sitting in my chair feeling quite content.

One thing I've mamaged to do is avoid these smiles being captured on film. Even though dad's always got a camera close by, I can flash these things so fast that even a high shutter speed can't catch them. Dad says he'll keep trying to take the pics, and to stop taking those baby milestone date lists seriously.

Housework

Mum's got me working.

Today we sorted boxes of books in the living room, and did a bit of clothes drying in the garage.

My role is mainly supervision and looking cute.

It's been raining all day, and the noise of the rain on the roof actually woke me up at one stage during the day, and it may have given me a bit of a fright as I woke up crying. That should have been spelt 'Crying' with a capital C.

I got another fright (this time without any tears) when mum burst out laughing watching Top Gear. She was feeding me at the time, and says I jumped a 'mile' high. I think she was talking in imperial measurements because it's an English TV show.

Storytime

Dad's started reading me stories before bed.

We tried to introduce stories a few weeks back, but I wasn't quite ready for books, and just spent the time squirming and whinging and looking at the window blinds.

Now I happily sit on dad's lap and listen to the stories.

We've started with my Beginner's Bible. Mum had one, and she was quite pleased to get one for me at the shops the other day. We've done Creation, the Fall, and Noah's Ark. Tomrrow's the Tower of Babel.

Mum's also gotten in on the story act and read me a book I was given all about sheep.

I guess later on I'll be grabbing at the pages and babbling along with the story, but for the time being I'm just learning the whole concept of 'books'. Dad says it's pretty cool to introduce me to stories, it's something that's been done for generations, and it's such an important learning and bonding tool.

And today's my hundredth day on the planet! Is there a special hundred day celebration? There should be. With cake.

Dream feed nightmare

Almost two months on from our first unsuccessful dreamfeed, we tried it again.

You remember the concept of the dreamfeed, where the baby has a feed while he's still alseep. It's supposed to keep you going longer through the night. Sort of like planes that get refueled mid flight.

Mum and dad crept into my room with a bottle of expressed milk in hand, gently lifted me out of the cot, and slowly put the bottle in my mouth. I started drinking. Asleep! It was quite a sight apparently. And I kept going and going. I'd sometimes give a little whimper and open my eyes, have a burp, then close them and get back to drinking, and sleeping.

After a good ten or fifteen minutes (I can't quite remember how long it was, I was a sleep after all) we got right down to the bottom of the bottle.

And that's where the plan fell apart.

I opened my eyes and opened my lungs. And I didn't shut either for a very long time. I got so bad mum ended up giving me a bit more of a feed the usual way, and that calmed me down like it usually does. But I wouldn't settle for a long time after that.

I eventually got too tired to whinge, and fell asleep. But we don't know whether we'll try the dreamfeed tonight. Maybe in another two months.

Lean on me

I've developed a new outlook on life.

A sideways one!

My latest trick is to lean over the edge when I'm being held.

Mum and dad have to be careful when walking through doorways, because we're a much wider load than normal when I do my little lean trick.

Leaning over the edge means my drool finds itself on all manner of things including mum's ug boots!

On my sideways travels I have begun to take interest in more than just the blinds and lights. I'm finding the ceiling fans fascinating as well as the clock in the loungeroom and its pendulum.

Happy lads

Mum went out this morning while dad and I stayed at home. In the past this has been quite unsuccessful, but today we clicked.

We played, we even had a bit of a feed with some bottled milk mum left for us. And when it was time to sleep I went down without too much fuss at all.

When mum's been out before dad's often sent her text messages when things started to go wrong. "Baby crying", "Hurry home", he once rang and held the phone up to me while I was in full swing! Today there were no text messages or phone calls, we were all happy at home, and mum was happy when there was no beeping from the phone in her handbag.

Vocalising

I'm talking. In my own way. It's definately not English, more Elvish.

Dad says it sound as if I'm referring to place names from Lord of the Rings!

I'll add interesting phrases to my usual coos and ahhs, usually accompanied by a big smile.

I like having 'conversations'. Dad talks to me about all sorts of things. He took great delight in explaining fantasy football, and even the specifications of our new computer. All the stuff that mum dismisses! I guess he's enjoying a captive audience.

Dad grabbed his guitar and plodded his way through a few chords with me too. I listened intently to the 'music', didn't sing along yet, but I'm sure I'll give it a go soon.

Boo!

Today I got a fright.

Dad was in the loungeroom having a bit of a chat with me. I was in a very happy mood, and when I'm in a happy mood I love talking to people.

There were lots of smiles.

Now, a couple of minutes into this wonderful time either dad got a bit close, or a little bit too loud, because all of a sudden my arms shot out and I jolted backwards. And then a good three seconds later my face screwed up, went a deep red, and I burst into tears.

No more smiles.

It happened again a couple of hours later at tea time. There has been much 'shushing' around here since. Nobody wants to be the one who makes the baby screw up his face like that again. Unless there's a video camera! (Don't tell mum that, she almost went red and screwed up her own face when dad suggested we grab the camera for an encore preformance). They both say it was terrible to see me in such a state, but they also laughed, because of my much delayed reaction, and the extended arms and screwed up face.

Suffice to say, we're trying to be a bit quieter around LLR HQ tonight because we don't want any frightened babies around the place.

Hedgehogs help me sleep

My bedroom is really bright. Not because of the toys and the wall hangings, but because of the sun that streams through the window.

I've been having trouble sleeping in my room, and after the trip to grandma and grandad's house, and my huge sleep in their room (which only has a small window), mum and dad decided to try 'darkening up' mine.

Dad found some curtain material at Spotlight, sewed it together to make a big 'sun blockout device' and attached it to the window. Calling it a curtain would insult curtain builders, but it does the job.

The material has hedgehogs and lady beetles and butterflies and bunnies on it and the sun still peeks through behind it, making it look sort of like an illuminated fish tank. But hedgehogs and lady beetles and butterflies and bunnies don't swim, as far as I know.

Anyway, after the installation of the 'sun blockout device' I slept for two full hours, and that's a lot more than I've been getting lately. Eight dollars well spent! When I woke up I was a very happy baby. And that meant we had a happy household.

Haiku

You hold me closely
And feed and wash and clothe me
I love my mummy

Hair

I was born with a good head of hair, and kept it for these three months, but there's a couple of thin patches starting to become noticeable around the sides of my head and we've been finding little clumps of hair in my cot over the last couple of days.

Uh oh.

If I keep this up I'll end up having a 'friar tuck' type hairdo!

I know what you're thinking, 'all babies lose their birth hair', but dad's been hoping I'd defy the trend and keep it, especially the bit that sticks up at the front!

If it keeps falling out I can always go to plan B; Tasmanian cap!

Grandad's got no hair and he's cool, so there's really nothing to worry about...

Every long car trip needs...

...Red socks!

This weekend I spent more time in the car than any other time I can remember.

Usually the bumps and motion keep me quiet, and usually send me to sleep, but today I stayed awake for most of the ride.

I did spend a good deal of the trip grizzling until I noticed two bright red things sitting in the car seat with me. They moved when my legs moved, and they kept me entertained for a long time. My red socks!

Along with my red socks to keep me amused, I have figured out how to stick three fingers in my mouth to sooth myself. I make a lot of slurping noises, but I seem to enjoy it, and mum and dad think I look rather cute trying to shove my hold hand in my mouth. They think I'm really close to finding my thumb, but in the mean time three fingers will do.

O happy day

I had my longest daytime sleep for quite some time this morning, and it set me up for a very happy day indeed.

I did more smiles today than any other day before. And I even had some reserved for people, as well as the furniture!

Mum and dad went out by themselves for the first time sice I was born. Grandma looked after me, and I tried to be on my best behaviour for her. I didn't make a fuss when she put me to sleep, the first time neither mum or dad had the pleasure of sending me off to the land of nod. And I didn't fuss when she changed my nappy. But those newfandangled disposable ones caught her by surprise and I ended up all backwards in it!

No worries though, a backwards nappy still keeps what's supposed to be inside in, and we all survived. Later on I did do a fart while sitting on grandma's knee, and dad told me later it's not really appropriate to flatulate on your grandparents.

How to win friends and alienate people

I visited dad at work today.

I smiled half the time. I cried half the time. So while half the people think we're best friends, the other half are wondering what they did wrong to make me wail.

I'll let you in on a secret, you're not really in control. We babies are. We'll cry when we feel like it and smile when we feel like it, and if the ceiling fan is more interesting than you, we'll smile at that instead!

I was actually a bit tired today, so my moods were as constant as the weather in Melbourne, but I did manage to charm everyone, except Nicole, who burst into the office to say hello to me for the first time, and managed to catch the tail end of a huge smile aimed at Trev, and the first breath of a red faced wail aimed right at her. Sorry Nicole, it wasn't personal.

Everyone at work, except maybe Nicole, was very impressed with my very loud set of lungs.

Preemptive strike

For the last few days I've been freaking dad out with my early morning carry on.

I'll wake up, coo and ahhh for a few minutes, and then start to call out for a bit of company. If mum and dad don't make it to my room in the three or four seconds I give them, I'll go to town. It's a sight, and a sound, to behold. Remember the 'terribly sad cry' I told you about a few days ago? I'm bringing it out fairly regularly in the morning.

It's dad's job to do the first nappy change of the day, and usually by the time he's wiping my butt I'm in full swing. He doesn't like it.

Today he was ready. At the first hint of a sound coming through the baby monitor he dived out of bed, and ran to my room like the Flash. I was picked up, cuddled, plonked on the change table, and before I even knew what was going on, was changed and handed to mum for a feed before I could even let out a coo, let alone a big sad cry.

Dad 1, Big Sad Cry 0.

I wonder who'll score tomorrow....

My favourite place

My favourite place is not my cot.

My favourite place is not my bath.

My favourite place is not the car.

My favourite place is not my playmat.

My favourite place is not the pram.

My favourite place is my change table.

Living life by the half hour

I've been in the cot for a few days now, but it seems I'd rather sleep anywhere but in there.

When mum puts me down into the cot during the daytime she can almost set her watch to my complaining half an hour later. After a few half hour sleeps I get quite zonked, and then start falling asleep wherever I find myself.

Today I slept in the hug-a-bub, mum's arms, the pram, dad's arms, my playmat and my vibrating chair thingy.

Dad got home to find me sprawled over mum, he took me and played the 'flying game' as he likes to call it (he lifts me over his head, I go completely rigid, and he says 'flyyyyyyyying baaaaaaabbbbbyyyyy' or does a rocket ship countdown and 'launches' me into space) and then plonked me on my playmat. I didn't play, I fell asleep. He picked me up again, we had a little talk, and then I fell asleep over his shoulder. He thought it was the perfect opportunity to let me have a little sleep in the cot. He was wrong. He wasn't out the door to my room when I started grizzling over being in the cot.

But it's only early days, I'm sure I'll get used to life between those white bars...And in the meantime mum and dad are quietly enjoying me sleeping in their arms.

Cradle cap and other funny hats

I've either got cradle cap or a bad case of dandruff.

Mum noticed it this morning. She remembered her mum, my grandma, used to comb uncle Michael's hair when he had it, and it seemed to go away. So she grabbed a comb and set about to get rid of the offending stuff. It didn't quite work as well as she hoped. Then she remembered there was a step before the combing, the application of some baby oil. Whoopseedaisy!

So she fixed it good and proper.

With a hat.

You know what they say, out of sight, out of mind, and we were going out to the coffee shop today, so I had to be looking presentable. You've seen the ads on telly, nobody likes dandruff!

So the moral of the story is, if you've got cradle cap, or a bad case of dandruff, and you leave out a few steps in the treatment of said problem, you need to get a different sort of cap, 'Tasmanian cap' (thanks Andrea!)

And for something totally different, I smiled at dad today with a smile he reckons looked just like the way Mummy B smiles. I guess seeing we're related it would make sense. And it's her birthday tomorrow, so happy birthday Mummy B, I'm smiling just like you!

Mr Happy

Today was the opposite of yesterday.

I must have woken up on the right side of the cot.

I played with dad when he woke up, then I amused myself in my rocking shair, and then I hung out with mum on the lounge. We had a huge sleep in front of the footy.

I'm still not having very long sleeps in my cot, but if I'm given the chance I'll sleep all day if I'm snuggling up to my mum.

Mr Grumpy

I've got the grumps today.

Not even a stroll around the lake would make me feel better. I even had the grumps when I was sleeping! It's true. When I'm sad I have little sob-like breaths, and when I fell asleep I kept breathing like this.

I only had small naps, which made me very tired, and that made me even grumpier!

By tea time I was howling, and mum wasn't happy, and dad wasn't happy. We were all unhappy.

But I finally went to sleep during the half time break of the footy. Dad's in a happier mood since the Lions won, and mum went to bed early to make sure she'd be happier, and they're both hoping I stay asleep so tomorrow will be happy all round!

Moving out

I packed up my things and moved into my own room today.

I've been having little daytime 'familiarisation' sleeps in the cot dad and grandad made for me. These sleeps only last for half an hour, I always seem to wake up at that point and can't get myself back to sleep. I think I wake up and realise I'm not in my bassinet, and call out for mum to come and give me a reassuring cuddle.

But tonight's the night my room finally becomes my bedroom, and not just the change-room.

7:30pm; I had my final meal before bedtime

8:00; I settle down in the cot without too much fuss.

8:31; Still sleeping! Record broken.

10:00; I'm awake, but I'm keeping myself entertained with my hands. I'm slurping on my fingers. Dad's hovering outside, making sure everything's going alright during my first night in the cot...

10:27: I start to grizzle for a feed. Mum takes over.

11:07; Finished my feed. Still a bit unsettled. Enjoying the pick ups and cuddles. not so much a fan of being put back down in the cot. There's a lot of space to wave my arms about in there though!

1:30am; I wake up the neighbourhood with a very loud and very sad cry. Takes a long time for dad to settle me down. Mum comes in and decides to give me a 'comfort feed'.

2:30am; Mum gets me to settle.

5:30am; I wake up quite upset and this time there's not a lot of shushing or patting, just a quick trip into mum and dad's room and I spend the rest of the 'night' on mum's tummy, just where I like it!

Somewehere between 1:30 and 6am; Our computer dies spectacularly. Dad goes and gets the laptop to finish the blog.

First night verdict? 50/50 - It wasn't a complete disaster (except for the computer blowing up - but that had nothing to do with me) and we're hoping tomorrow will be even better...

Negotiating

I'm learing the art of negotiating.

The first rule; timing is everything. If, for instance, you want to sleep in mum and dad's bed fussing won't get you very far before midnight. Big bed happy hour is at about 4am. At that time nobody really has the time, energy, or will to 'shush' me back to sleep.

I always take care to wait until my tummy lands on mum before I shut my eyes and fall asleep, just to let mum know it's an effective way of both of us getting a few more hours of shut-eye. Dad says it's sometimes a bit of a shock to open his eyes in the morning and see me lying on mum's tummy, staring right at him.

The second rule; who needs a second rule when the first rule works so well!

Upgrading

My little home is getting a bit small, it's almost time for me to move out of my bassinet. Even though I've got a new place to go, I don't seem too keen to leave the old place.

Mum has been giving me sleeps in my cot during the day. Sleep may not be the right word. 'A bit of time fussing about' would be more accurate.

The bassinet was a bit boring comapred to the amazing things to see and do in the cot. The only there is to do in the bassinet is sleep, the cot is a world of fun. I can see out the bars, and can see the blinds on the window, I can look up and see my giraffe pictures (which dad has threatened to move if they become too distracting). And the space! I could have a party in there!

Nights are still spent in the bassinet, but soon I think I'm going to be turfed out of there becasue I'm getting too long! 63cms at last measurement.