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.