Tuesday, May 31, 2005
hideous cold 1, lisa 0
Still hacking and snuffling away here, but fortunately Jack is still the happiest chappy ever. There are many things I never thought I'd say in my life, such as: "Awwww look! He's blowing snot bubbles! Hee hee!" I know I am a true mother because not only did I say that, I genuinely found it endearing. At least I didn't take pictures.
At the osteopath's this morning, Jack got a bit fussy; it's very warm outside and he was a bit tired. As I was having my limbs massaged and my spine cracked, I could hear my osteopath chatting away to Jack, keeping him entertained. Like the last time, he scooped Jack up and made silly faces at him while I did my porcupine impression. He lifted Jack out of his car seat and swung him around gently, then he stood and said "I'll be right back" and went out the door with my first born child. Although 99.9% of my brain completely trusted him, .1% was slightly concerned that perhaps being half naked and full of needles on a table while a relative stranger runs off with your baby might be a bad thing. He returned seconds later with an armful of toys, sat with Jack and rattled, spun, and shook brightly coloured objects at him for the next ten minutes. Things like this warm my heart and restore my faith in humankind.
Friday, May 27, 2005
having a cold is fun!
like mother, like son
On Wednesday, Jack had a very snuffly nose and was looking a bit under the weather. It got worse as the day wore on, and all I could do was offer sympathy and break open some Karvol.* Then last night, my throat started feeling sore. By the time Jack woke for his 2am feed, I couldn't even move (or at least that's what I told Paul after he was kind enough to take care of that feed). Both of us coughed and snuffled through the night, made a lot more uncomfortable by the recent heatwave. I'm amazed that Jack isn't really grumpy. I feel like cack, and I'm on cold tablets, paracetamol, and Halls. Jack can't even blow his nose and he's been cooing and giggling away all morning. Do babies get mini versions of colds? He really doesn't seem too bothered about the whole thing. Personally, if I had a cold and had to put up with a streaming nose and couldn't even have a nice hot cup of tea, I'd be pretty hacked off.
I thought that Jack might get a bit dehydrated due to the heat and having to breathe through his mouth, so I gave him some (cooled, boiled) water for the first time early this morning. It went something like this:
"So very sleepy. What's this? Ah, it's my bottle. Rightyo."
"What the...?! GAH!" [wrinkle nose and look perplexed, pull away from the bottle]
"What's this? Ah, it's my bottle. Rightyo."
"Wait a minute...that's not milk! That's some sort of wet tasteless nothing!" [make a face, pull away from the bottle]
"What's this? Ah, it's my bottle. Rightyo."
"Not this godawful stuff again! Oh, honestly!" [make a face, pull away from the bottle, and use both hands to push the bottle away]
Suffice it to say, it wasn't a hit, but at least I know he's not dehydrated.
*(Karvol is an oil made up of cloves, eucalyptus and other smelly things to help with congestion. You put a few drops on a tissue and place it near the baby's cot.)
Thursday, May 26, 2005
what's in a name?
Speaking of names (which I was in my last post - I make sense sometimes), we are currently organising Jack's baby naming ceremony. "What the hell kind of hippydippy nonsense is that?", I hear you ask. It's like a nondenominational christening, if that makes any sense. We all know that the "thing to do" is to take your baby to a church of your choice and make all sorts of promises with regards to your child's religious upbringing. That's great if you actually attend church, otherwise, I think it's hypocritical (and offensive to those who follow that religion) to baptise your baby with no intentions of following through any of the promises. So, for us heathens, there are baby naming ceremonies.
We are holding it at the hotel where we got married last year, and the ceremony will be performed by the same registry office that did our wedding ceremony. See, everything comes full circle. Neat, eh? During the ceremony, Paul and I will make promises to Jack (and I'll try not to cry), explain how we came up with his name (while I make another feeble attempt not to cry), name his "stand in parents", and pick a reading that someone else will have to do because I'll cry if I do it myself. This will be followed by an afternoon tea (I say, how terribly British) and general merriment. It's being held the day before Jack's 6 month birthday, and I'm so looking forward to it.
Hopefully Jack won't start teething that weekend because then I won't be the only one in tears.
Tuesday, May 24, 2005
my son is number one
So what if Jack has been the most popular boys name in England five years running? It means I will always be able to find stuff like this:
Yes, I know I've gone insane. No, I don't care a jot.
Finally, click here for an important message from Jack. (1.8Mb movie; please right-click and select "Save Target As..." and save it to your PC. Thanks!)
i enjoy being a girl
Yesterday my scar hurt. A lot. After thinking about it, the only thing I could equate it to was the afterpains you feel when you breastfeed in the first couple of days. I hobbled around the house in a similar manner to my hobbling three months ago, popped some paracetamol/Tylenol, and imagined all sorts of horrifying things that surely must be occurring inside me to cause me this pain. I felt something similar (but not as painful) last month shortly before my period arrived, and wondered if this was related. After doing a bit of Internet research (which, as we all know, is generally not a good idea, but I was curious) I came across one site that mentioned scar tenderness during ovulation, which would make sense for me given the timing. After several more searches using as many relevant key words as I could muster up, I came across nothing else. Fabulous. The good news is, today I feel much better. The bad news is, I will be very irate if this is going to happen every single month when I ovulate.
The only thing that's getting me through this ordeal are the Peanut Butter Cups Dina sent me. Bless you, Dina. I will bring you exotic English sweets next time I go home.
Monday, May 23, 2005
three is a magic number
Jack turned three months old yesterday. It's amazing how much he changes day to day, and how he's becoming far more aware and "interactive". My friend TonyF was right, the first three months are tough because you don't get a lot of "return" for what you put into your baby (unless you count dirty nappies). You spend 24 hours a day doing something to or for the baby, while he stares at light fixtures above your head, cracks a slight smile when he's gassy, and screams the house down through the night. Then one day, he starts staring intently at you, captivated by your every word and silly facial expressions. A huge smile spreads across his face, and you know, without a doubt, that it's not gas. He giggles when you blow raspberries on his belly, he coos, blurbles, and gurgles at you. When you peer over his cot first thing in the morning, he looks at you in recognition and grins with pure delight, his little fists and feet flapping about. And this is what makes you think that maybe the first three months weren't so tough and next time, you'll certainly do much better.
You know all those books that say that babies start sleeping through at three months? What utter nonsense. Jack's sleep schedule has no rhyme nor reason at the moment, and seems to be getting more random as he gets older. He's sleeping far less during the day now, and still wakes through the night. He will have one long stretch between feeds in a 24 hour period, however this never seems to coincide with any overnight hours. For example, he'll go from 8pm until 2am without a feed, and then "cluster feed" every 2-3 hours or so to make up for that long stretch. We are still feeding on demand because I don't believe in forcing a bottle down Jack according to the clock rather than when he's hungry. The downside is that maybe this is why his eating pattern is all over the place. Incidentally, we are now convinced that the formula for "hungrier babies" actually makes babies hungrier, not that it's for babies with bigger appetites. Jack's been guzzling the stuff down with the same gusto as the regular formula. Of course with our genes, it's not surprising that we've got a kid who likes to eat.
I remember feeling such relief when I passed the first trimester. I had a sense of confidence and felt that I could now simply enjoy being pregnant without stressing about every twitch and niggle. It's a similar feeling after the baby comes. Now that we're beyond the three month point, I am feeling far more confident and capable with Jack. I thoroughly enjoy every moment I have with him and when we put him up to bed in the evening, I miss him.
Mind you, as much as I love being with him, I am still not enthusiastic about spending quality time with him at 2-4:00 in the morning. Oh and if anyone ever says to you that you get used to the broken sleep, you are legally permitted to fling dirty nappies at them.
Saturday, May 21, 2005
out on the town
Now that we are a mobile family, we've enjoyed many outings. This is a Good Thing: after being housebound for 6 weeks after Jack was born, I am grateful to get outdoors. We've had lovely afternoon visits to see Ruth and Naomi, Heather and Rebecca, we're off to devour some dim sum (YAY!) tomorrow afternoon with the ex-work gang, we're meeting the Ex-pregnant Ladies Lunch Club next week, baby yoga, lunch with the NCT mums and babes, and swimming starts the following week. I actually have to check my calendar to see when I'm free. I've started to carry my iPAQ around with me again. I feel something resembling a life making a reappearance. Gosh.
Although I'm confident taking Jack almost everywhere with me, I'm not keen on the idea of taking him places where I can't really get to him if he starts fussing (the hairdresser, for example). I was slightly nervous the other day when I decided to take him to the osteopath's with me. He would have to sit fuss-free while I get rubbed, stretched, cracked, and needled for 30 minutes. Indeed.
Hazel the receptionist made a big fuss over him, as did my osteopath. Jack napped quietly in his car seat while the osteopath worked on my weak, pathetic limbs. For the first time since I got pregnant, I had some acupuncture done as well. Lying flat on my back with a half dozen needles in me, I started to feel tense as I waited for the familiar sound of Jack's snuffly snorty I'm About to Cry My Head Off noises - I couldn't exactly leap up and console him if he started sobbing. Then I heard, "Hello Jack! Are you my friend?" as the osteopath put Jack's car seat up on his desk and kept him happy for the 10 minutes I was being a pincushion. I managed to turn my head just enough to see his desk, and watched the osteopath beam at my son, cooing and tickling him. How fantastic! I get osteopathic treatment with free daycare! It worked out beautifully, much to my relief.
And now, for no particular reason, some pictures:
Wednesday, May 18, 2005
le jambon
A short slideshow of my little monkey can be seen here.
by popular demand
Pictures!
Jack loves his Grandad...
...but isn't quite as impressed by the great outdoors.
Tuesday, May 17, 2005
bits n bobs
Jack had round two of his immunisations this morning, and both of us fared much better this time. Paul held him (sorry for foisting that on you at the last minute, Pauly) - Jack's daddy obviously has the magic touch. He let out a little grouchy noise for injection #1, and although injection #2 provoked a louder protest, it was not nearly as dramatic as last time. He's been a bit sleepy this afternoon but otherwise, he's just fine. And so am I.
We've been loving The House of Tiny Tearaways on BBC Three, featuring the ever-lovely Dr. Tanya Byron. It's like Supernanny meets Big Brother: three families with "problem children" (although in some cases, the parents are the real problem) live in a specially designed house for six days. Each day, they meet with Dr. Tanya and go through a series of exercises and techniques to help with their children's behavioural problems. We're addicted and thoroughly enjoy shouting parenting advice and snide remarks at the television each night. Of course we can be smug for now because our baby is perfectly behaved. I suspect the ability to walk and talk might change things slightly in future.
Ah, my perfectly behaved child is now expressing himself using an elaborate vocal technique called "shrieking". If you'll excuse me.
Thursday, May 12, 2005
babies babies everywhere
Yesterday was a day of many babies: I met up with the girls and babies for coffee/tea in the afternoon, then we had a reunion for our NCT antenatal class in the evening. I hadn't met all the babies from our class yet, so it was really fun to see how all the bumps turned out. Although it's lovely to be with babies who are Jack's age, it saddens me slightly to discover that other babies make the same noises/faces/gestures that Jack does. I know it's silly, but there were things I thought were "Jackisms", but apparently a lot of babies have similar traits.
Luckily, I've not met a baby that makes the same "talking" noises as Jack does. He often has a chat with me, with such riveting topics of conversation such as "ah gooooo!", "guhguhguhguh", "EEEoooh!", and "muhmuhmuhmuh". He sometimes gets a look of extreme concentration in his eyes (that isn't related to filling his nappy) while he's chatting. If he came with subtitles, it would say: "I am trying to tell you something really important. Quit giggling at me, I'm trying to be serious! Awwww don't call me cute! MUM!!" Or something like that.
I've joined a babysitting circle, made up of the girls from our class. One of the girls made up some vouchers totalling 15 hours, and we trade them for babysitting time. I think it's an excellent idea. We don't really know anyone in the immediate area and we have no family close by. Judging by the spotty teens I've seen in our neighbourhood, I wouldn't leave any of them in charge of my child for an evening. Although most of us are in agreement that we don't really feel the need to escape from our babies just yet, I'm sure this circle will come in handy after a few months.
I'm off to baby yoga next week (I'm pretty sure this doesn't involve bending Jack into a sun salutation while all the mums go "ohhhm"), and I'm signing up for Merbabies (baby swimming) in June. I think it'll be fun for Jack to get into a pool - he absolutely loves being in the bath - and it'll be a good excuse for me to paddle around a pool a couple of times a week. Otherwise, I'm still not keen on any of the mother/baby groups in my area (even though my health visitor keeps harassing me to attend and for some strange reason, she keeps insisting that I ring one of the mothers nearby - come to think of it, my health visitor is a bit annoying) and I am not co-ordinated enough to get to the NCT coffee mornings at 10am.
And finally in today's baby news update, Jack now weighs 12lbs. 14 oz. and is 24 inches long. Apparently he's still in the 50th percentile for weight and 75th for length. In realistic measurements, his torso is too long (and his belly too big) for 0-3 clothes, but his little legs are too stubby for 3-6 month clothes. How I know what it's like to be in that horrible in-between stage for clothing. *sigh*
Monday, May 09, 2005
reach out and touch somebody's hand
As I was getting dressed this morning, I heard a clunk clunk clunk noise coming from Jack's room. Usually any clunking sounds are from Jack's little fists hitting his "dreamshow" (a musical projector thingy that attaches to the side of the cot) as he waves his arms around, but I stuck my head round the door just to check. He had his fingers wrapped around a Tigger toy I had clipped to his cot, and the clunking was from him pulling on it and swinging it back and forth.
"Big deal," I hear you say. It is sort of a big deal to me - it's the first time I've seen him reach for anything. Babies usually start to grasp objects held out to them at around Jack's age, but he's always kept his hands in tight little fists. He's great at batting at things, but I've never seen him grab hold of anything other than my finger (and hair, necklace, shirt, and other things he uses to suspend his entire body weight when I try to put him down). To see him grab hold of something by himself and play with it was pretty cool. I love these little milestones - they make me look forward to what might come each day. Who knows? Maybe next week he'll try to stuff something into his mouth. Oooooooh!
Saturday, May 07, 2005
jack would like to say...
"Britney is having a baby? Ewwwww! *gag*"
"You touch my milk, I break ya face."
"Who will win American Idol? Let me ponder that one."
Friday, May 06, 2005
fetch the bicycle pump
Jack has always favoured his right side. Ever since birth, he lies with his head turned to the right. This didn't really strike me as being a problem until one day, we noticed that the side of his head was flat. It's like his head is made of Playdough and it's become squished on one side from the pressure. I did a bit of online research (which generally is a very bad idea) and discovered something called Flat Head Syndrome. Some sites said it'll sort itself out when the baby's old enough to hold his head up and when he spends less time on his back. Others were more alarming and claimed that it could lead to permanent facial disfigurement and that the baby needs to be fit with some odd-looking helmet to get his head round again. I think that Jack's head will become rounder again as he gets older, but now I have this nagging feeling that this might require more immediate attention.
I want to take him to see the health visitor next week to get him weighed anyway (it'll have been three weeks since his last weigh in, and I'm curious), so I'll ask her about it then. In the meantime, I've been propping his head to the left side with rolled up towels and pillows, put interesting books and toys on the left side of his cot, and have been feeding him on my right arm. Have I gone completely nuts?
Wait, don't answer that.
Wednesday, May 04, 2005
food for thought
I came across the concept of "baby-led feeding" in one of my many books, but had forgotten about it until Lisa S. pointed me to this site during one of our chats. Jack won't be introduced to solids for a while yet (the current plan is to do this at 6 months), but this is definitely something I want to look into and try out. In a nutshell, instead of spoon-feeding pureed things to your child, food is placed in front of the baby (in large pieces to avoid choking) so that s/he can experiment with it themselves. Of course spoon-feeding is still necessary when Jack cannot feed himself, but I love the idea of also letting him have a go at some food himself. I don't think food should be something that's only shovelled into a baby's mouth; it should be something they can explore themselves and enjoy. Plus, sometimes I secretly long to grab my food with my bare hands and smush it. I can do this vicariously through my child.
The only part of the article that I don't really agree with is this:
"It is not clear whether a baby-led approach to the introduction of solids is appropriate for babies who are bottle fed; more research is needed to establish this, since bottle-feeding seems to be more mother-led."
Isn't breastfeeding also mother-led? Unless your baby is clever enough to come to you when s/he's hungry, unclip your maternity bra, and latch on for a feed, I don't think this theory is accurate. I think the problem lies with parents who insist that babies finish the entire bottle, and perhaps in this sense, feedings become mother-led. In other words, the baby isn't feeding at his or her own pace, or feeding until s/he is no longer hungry. I think as long as you're not doing that, this approach should work with bottle fed babies.
I am really looking forward to teaching Jack about food and getting him involved in cooking. This has nothing to do with any plans to have two men who can cook in this house. *cough*
Tuesday, May 03, 2005
excuse me while i file my nails and polish off another box of chocolates
"So, what do you do with your days?"
"Are you bored yet?"
"Your scar still hurts?"
"It's nice because you can get everything done while the baby sleeps."
I have a theory. All mothers must go through some sort of pregnancy/birth/having a newborn amnesia because this is the only explanation for some of the comments and questions I've received. The quotes above were all said to me by mothers (and the third one was said by a mother who had a c-section), and the scary thing is, some of these mothers have young kids. I can totally understand how mothers of older/grown up children might not remember what life was like with a newborn, but I think the maternal brain must block out most of our experiences raising babies when our kids reach the age of two. Maybe that's why people go on to have more than one.
As a public service announcement, please, I beg you, do not say any of the above to a new mother. Additionally, try not to say things like "newborns sleep all the time" or "Four hours between feeds? That's great!" (I cannot tell you how many times I've had to explain that four hours between the start of each feed doesn't mean I get four hours of sleep each time.) What you should say are things like "You look great", "You sit down and I'll go make the tea", and "Here's the key to a luxury hotel in the area. You go there for the night and we'll stay here with the baby." (Okay, that last one is a stretch.) The point is, please try not to infer that the new mother hasn't got anything to do or that her life is easy in any respect. There was a point in time when you felt like running away and joining the circus after the millionth sleepless night, but it's been erased from your memory. Trust me, it happened.
I suppose this would be a good time to mention that I started my period yesterday. Go ahead; make my day.
Monday, May 02, 2005
happy chappy
The happiest baby in the world:
He makes my heart sing.
Sunday, May 01, 2005
jack's sunny day
Bare feet!
Laughing it up with Uncle Russ:
Being serious while trying to impress Auntie Debs:
