Thursday, 3 June 2010
Will Not Fuss Part Deux
So, after her vomitous start to the day, madam was still hungry. And for the first time, I had to give her a bottle of formula, because she'd already cleaned me out. Typically, she took to it with no complaints or fussing. Makes me feel like a bit of a cheat, but I'm glad a) that she did take it without bother, & b) that it was on my terms, rather than under medical instruction.
Will Not Fuss
I will not fuss over every little thing.
I will not fuss over every little thing.
I will not fuss over every little thing.
I will not fuss over every little thing.
I will not fuss over every little thing.
I will not fuss over every little thing.
Right. Now that's out of the way. GAH! Squeaky has discovered a lovely new habit. She's decided that breakfast is for wimps. She'll either refuse to eat at breakfast time, after squawking for food, but then lie there smacking her lips in that "feed me, I'm hungry" type manner. Or, and even better, she'll feed. And then throw it all up. All over me, her, the sofa, the bed, whatever happens to be available. All the rest of her meals stay down, she feeds absolutely fine the rest of the day, but breakfast is for wimps.
Part of me thinks she's eating too much, because she's hungry, and her little stomach can't cope with all she's feeding, so maybe it's time to start adding some baby rice (weaning, yayfun!), but then the other part of me says "But she's throwing up already, is adding something new actually going to help with that? Or am I going to be cleaning up baby rice sick as well as milk sick?"
And unless I bump into her out walking like yesterday, I'm unlikely to see the midwife for another 2 weeks, by which stage I will have washed everything in the house every day. And still smell of baby sick.
I will not fuss over every little thing.
I will not fuss over every little thing.
I will not fuss over every little thing.
I will not fuss over every little thing.
I will not fuss over every little thing.
Right. Now that's out of the way. GAH! Squeaky has discovered a lovely new habit. She's decided that breakfast is for wimps. She'll either refuse to eat at breakfast time, after squawking for food, but then lie there smacking her lips in that "feed me, I'm hungry" type manner. Or, and even better, she'll feed. And then throw it all up. All over me, her, the sofa, the bed, whatever happens to be available. All the rest of her meals stay down, she feeds absolutely fine the rest of the day, but breakfast is for wimps.
Part of me thinks she's eating too much, because she's hungry, and her little stomach can't cope with all she's feeding, so maybe it's time to start adding some baby rice (weaning, yayfun!), but then the other part of me says "But she's throwing up already, is adding something new actually going to help with that? Or am I going to be cleaning up baby rice sick as well as milk sick?"
And unless I bump into her out walking like yesterday, I'm unlikely to see the midwife for another 2 weeks, by which stage I will have washed everything in the house every day. And still smell of baby sick.
Tuesday, 1 June 2010
Milestones
Squeaky keeps on growing, as a good baby should, I guess. And now she's getting almost too big for her moses basket, or at least to be in there safely all night, as she's fidgety. About a week ago, then, I put up her cot. So rather than being flat-packed & blocking the bedroom door a bit, it takes up most of the available floorspace that wasn't already filled with bed & wardrobe.
That's not the point though. The point is, last night, my little girl spent her first night in her big girl bed. Admittedly in her moses basket in the bed, but in her proper big girl bed, on her own.
How did I get such a placid, accepting baby. All the books and the people tell you that "Oh, she'll be all freaked out by the big bed, and not being RIGHT next to you", but she was absolutely fine, calm & sleeping peacefully. The only one who was freaked out by her not being RIGHT next to me was, errr, me! I think that's probably going to be the pattern for the rest of her life - she just gets on and does, and it's me who freaks.
Oh, and right now? She's grabbing Tigger's tail on her play gym, blowing raspberries and growling.
That's not the point though. The point is, last night, my little girl spent her first night in her big girl bed. Admittedly in her moses basket in the bed, but in her proper big girl bed, on her own.
How did I get such a placid, accepting baby. All the books and the people tell you that "Oh, she'll be all freaked out by the big bed, and not being RIGHT next to you", but she was absolutely fine, calm & sleeping peacefully. The only one who was freaked out by her not being RIGHT next to me was, errr, me! I think that's probably going to be the pattern for the rest of her life - she just gets on and does, and it's me who freaks.
Oh, and right now? She's grabbing Tigger's tail on her play gym, blowing raspberries and growling.
Tuesday, 11 May 2010
No-one said it would be easy...
There's a million updates I owe this blog. Is there a genuine issue with blog-guilt or have I invented a new syndrome? Whatev. Here's one.
Squeaky had been a bit slow to gain weight over a few weeks, mostly because she's the sort of child that doesn't tell you she's hungry until she's STARVING, and I'd assumed she was ok. Seems that if I just shove a nipple in her mouth, she realises "oh, yes, food, I could go for some of that", but she doesn't come up with the idea on her own. So we've banned the dummy, apart from bedtime (and as a result, she's not too fussed then either), we've done LOADS of expressing to give her a daily supplementary feed, and generally fed like crazy. As a result, we've had a couple of 9oz/wk gains! RESULT! She's slowed a little this week, but she's got a cold, so hopefully that's all it is.
Expressing is damn hard work, you know. Sterilising, pumping at the bazoongas until you feel like Unigate Dairies. I suddenly feel a lot of sympathy for dairy cattle. Especially when the most reliable time to get a decent quantity of milk is 3a.m. Like I need to lose any more sleep. But it's worth it to see her grow.
Squeaky had been a bit slow to gain weight over a few weeks, mostly because she's the sort of child that doesn't tell you she's hungry until she's STARVING, and I'd assumed she was ok. Seems that if I just shove a nipple in her mouth, she realises "oh, yes, food, I could go for some of that", but she doesn't come up with the idea on her own. So we've banned the dummy, apart from bedtime (and as a result, she's not too fussed then either), we've done LOADS of expressing to give her a daily supplementary feed, and generally fed like crazy. As a result, we've had a couple of 9oz/wk gains! RESULT! She's slowed a little this week, but she's got a cold, so hopefully that's all it is.
Expressing is damn hard work, you know. Sterilising, pumping at the bazoongas until you feel like Unigate Dairies. I suddenly feel a lot of sympathy for dairy cattle. Especially when the most reliable time to get a decent quantity of milk is 3a.m. Like I need to lose any more sleep. But it's worth it to see her grow.
Friday, 30 April 2010
Silence is golden
OK, OK. I'm rubbish at finding the time to sit down & write anything. So, a brief overview of the less full-post-on-their-own-worthy things of the last few weeks.
We went to the park, and it was lovely. I got sunburned, Squeakydaddy ran round the lake 3 times for no obvious reason, and Squeaky slept through it all under the cover of her buggy. Parc Bryn Bach is lovely, one of the most well-designed parks I've ever seen, and very very inclusive. The trail around the lake is paved & flat, so cyclists, buggies and wheelchairs can all get round comfortably. They rent out bikes, trikes, tandems, trandems (I may have just invented this word), and various configurations of bikes for people with disabilities, about half the staff in the visitors centre have some degree of learning disability, even the kids play area has a roundabout accessible to wheelchairs. Honestly, the place is lovely. And a changing/feeding/whatever room almost the size of my lounge. And most surprising of all, the place is run by the council! Local Government Win for once!!!
Other places made of baby changing & feeding WIN at the moment are Mothercare, and The Mall in Bristol. Both of which have seen my boobs in the last week or so, as well as Squeaky's bottom.
Speaking (Squeaking?) of Mothercare, I'm so glad I went down there the other day. Before Squeaky was born, we bought an Infantino baby sling 2nd hand from someone. While we've had a little bit of use out of it, it just felt kind of insecure, and I was beginning to think it'd been a waste of money. And now it's on a recall! So I get a better carrier as a replacement, brand new. Hooray.
There may be more posts to come shortly, but we're off on our holidays next week, squeaking our way to north Wales, so you might have to excuse another gap. Normal service will be resumed as soon as possible.
We went to the park, and it was lovely. I got sunburned, Squeakydaddy ran round the lake 3 times for no obvious reason, and Squeaky slept through it all under the cover of her buggy. Parc Bryn Bach is lovely, one of the most well-designed parks I've ever seen, and very very inclusive. The trail around the lake is paved & flat, so cyclists, buggies and wheelchairs can all get round comfortably. They rent out bikes, trikes, tandems, trandems (I may have just invented this word), and various configurations of bikes for people with disabilities, about half the staff in the visitors centre have some degree of learning disability, even the kids play area has a roundabout accessible to wheelchairs. Honestly, the place is lovely. And a changing/feeding/whatever room almost the size of my lounge. And most surprising of all, the place is run by the council! Local Government Win for once!!!
Other places made of baby changing & feeding WIN at the moment are Mothercare, and The Mall in Bristol. Both of which have seen my boobs in the last week or so, as well as Squeaky's bottom.
Speaking (Squeaking?) of Mothercare, I'm so glad I went down there the other day. Before Squeaky was born, we bought an Infantino baby sling 2nd hand from someone. While we've had a little bit of use out of it, it just felt kind of insecure, and I was beginning to think it'd been a waste of money. And now it's on a recall! So I get a better carrier as a replacement, brand new. Hooray.
There may be more posts to come shortly, but we're off on our holidays next week, squeaking our way to north Wales, so you might have to excuse another gap. Normal service will be resumed as soon as possible.
Monday, 12 April 2010
Like Mother, Light Daughter
Squeaky has lots of friends. A few of them are the other babies she meets at Boobie Club (our name for the breastfeeding support group), some are her toys, and the rest are random items. Maybe I should introduce the cast members.
Plant - strangely enough, this is a plant. To be specific, it's a poinsettia that's been living on the windowsill since before Christmas. How it's still alive is a mystery to me, but as long as Squeaky keeps talking to it, I'm glad it's going strong.
Mask - a lovely red & cream Venetian mask above the bed. Clearly fascinating first thing in the morning, and gives her someone to talk to when she decides that sleep is for other people.
Lightbulb - Oh, her best friend. All her best friends are lightbulbs. The conversations they've had, the fun they've shared! Even when a light is switched off, it's still worth staring at for a while in case it comes on and she can talk to it for a while.
I mentioned this to SqueakyGran the other day. BIG mistake. She just laughed, and "kindly" reminded me that lightbulbs used to be my friends too. And more to the point, that I would spend many a happy car journey talking to, and feeding, the streetlights. I'm not entirely clear on how I fed streetlights, let alone why, but it's true. As soon as she said it, I remembered it quite clearly. I wonder who feeds them now. I hope they're not too hungry.
Plant - strangely enough, this is a plant. To be specific, it's a poinsettia that's been living on the windowsill since before Christmas. How it's still alive is a mystery to me, but as long as Squeaky keeps talking to it, I'm glad it's going strong.
Mask - a lovely red & cream Venetian mask above the bed. Clearly fascinating first thing in the morning, and gives her someone to talk to when she decides that sleep is for other people.
Lightbulb - Oh, her best friend. All her best friends are lightbulbs. The conversations they've had, the fun they've shared! Even when a light is switched off, it's still worth staring at for a while in case it comes on and she can talk to it for a while.
I mentioned this to SqueakyGran the other day. BIG mistake. She just laughed, and "kindly" reminded me that lightbulbs used to be my friends too. And more to the point, that I would spend many a happy car journey talking to, and feeding, the streetlights. I'm not entirely clear on how I fed streetlights, let alone why, but it's true. As soon as she said it, I remembered it quite clearly. I wonder who feeds them now. I hope they're not too hungry.
Wednesday, 7 April 2010
Tact & diplomacy
Over a week since our last update, but now Squeakydaddy has gone back to work, so I have more time to do stuff. Yeah, go figure.
Squeaky is 2 and a half months old now. How does that in any way suggest that she's ready to eat chocolate? From someone who has two children and at least half a dozen grandchildren (I've lost count, the one son is a veritable machine). And how do I politely say "Thanks, but no thanks"?
Oh, but I might have the solution. Squeaky is going through another of her "not putting much weight on" phases. We've been here before, so I'm less concerned than the health visitor. She piles it on for a few weeks, then stalls for a couple, then piles it on again. So we've sent a poo sample to the hospital for lactose intolerance tests, and I'm experimenting with soy milk. This could be our chocolate escape route, without offending my crazy family. Wish us luck, it's weigh-in day today.
Squeaky is 2 and a half months old now. How does that in any way suggest that she's ready to eat chocolate? From someone who has two children and at least half a dozen grandchildren (I've lost count, the one son is a veritable machine). And how do I politely say "Thanks, but no thanks"?
Oh, but I might have the solution. Squeaky is going through another of her "not putting much weight on" phases. We've been here before, so I'm less concerned than the health visitor. She piles it on for a few weeks, then stalls for a couple, then piles it on again. So we've sent a poo sample to the hospital for lactose intolerance tests, and I'm experimenting with soy milk. This could be our chocolate escape route, without offending my crazy family. Wish us luck, it's weigh-in day today.
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