Thursday 8 August 2013

The Scripture of Cot.


In the beginning there was a moses basket for the first born. But lo the child outgroweth it and got tubby and heavy and so he entered the family bed where he ruled over the household for months. Until the Patriarch and Matriarch chose a Cot. And the Cot was delivered unto them via next day delivery and the box sat in the corridor for at least a week before the Patriarch assembled it -by the sweat of his brow. And lo he cried up to the Heavens "These screws are too f*cking small for the holes!"

And hours later the Cot was erected in a separate room for the chunky first born, a labour of love, and Matriarch and Patriarch were hopeful. As you sow so shall you reap.

And it was 7pm and the sky was darker and lowering and thanks to the gospel of Super Nanny studied for years beforeth the Matriarch knew the importance of a bedroom routine and lo she gave unto him a hearty stodgy meal of pureed roast chicken and it was good. She then baptised the child in a warm bath and wrapped him in a comfy bedtime garment. And the child was lowered into the cot and fed a bottle of warm milk until his eyes shut and he entered the land of nod. And the Matriarch crept out of the nursery and prayed that he would not awake till morn. Gird your loins.

And she said unto them whoever doth not be f*cking quiet after 7pm cannot be my disciple and will feel thy wrath. Blessed are the peacemakers.

On the first night the child, the apple of thy eye, awoke three times and cried unto the Wilderness as it was his birthright.

And on the second night the child awoke three times and cried unto the Wilderness and refused to sleep for hours. The child spoke - He said, I am the voice of one crying in the wilderness, make me milk straight away!!

And she forgave him - for he knows not what he does.

But she did not get enough sleep and said unto the Patriarch come not near to me; for I am tireder than thou and I will burneth you.

But a house divided against itself cannot stand. All things must pass.

But Lo! On the third night the child slept in his own room from 7.15 pm to 7.15 am with two very short wake ups. And the clouds parted and light did shine upon the household and all were rested and the Lord was good and all thoughts of homicide were put to one side and love and harmony reigned. Oh tender mercies!

Let there be light.

And Matriarch and Patriarch could once more eat, drink and be merry and lay together in the family bed. What the Cot has joined together let no little man put asunder.

And she said unto him, Verily, verily, I say unto thee, Thank f*ck for that!


Wednesday 7 August 2013

The Weaning of Life

Question - who is the best fed person in our house, perhaps our street, perhaps town?
Answer - my five and a half month old son. 

We are in the full messy throws of weaning! 

It is fruit galore in pureed form - apples and pears and strawberries and raspberries and bananas and mangos and papaya! I don't even know what a papaya is! And if it's not fruit it's veg! Carrots and peppers and sweet potatoes and sweetcorn and spinach. Although I wouldn't recommend the spinach - as aesthetically it resembles something that one might see shooting out of the back of a sick farm animal. And it doesn't stop at fruit and veg... he is having a jolly old time as a carnivore. He has had chicken, bangers and mash and beef stew. In his special drawer in the kitchen there is a stack of gourmet delights awaiting him - from fish pie to pork roast to bean stew to cheesy pie to chicken casserole. He has also enjoyed baby porridge and berry crumble with custard! As I said - the best fed gentleman within at least a ten mile radius. Little Lord Fauntleroy!! I on the other hand am living on cold cups of tea and toast. 

It is an exciting time! After weeks of breast feeding - then months of formula feeding, milk seems so old news! The religious making up of the bottles gets somewhat tedious - so it is so exciting to get a little bowl and a little spoon and experiment a myriad of tastes on your little chubby Guinea Pig. So far my experimental findings note book reads ......... 

Hates banana, Loves Chicken. 

It is extremely interesting reading. 

Of course, with weaning comes a new hobby - washing! Your laundry bin overfloweth with bibs (redundant) and baby clothes splattered with pureed meals. Unfortunately 80% of the food that is intended for his mouth goes behind his neck, down his top, up his nose, on his chair, in his hair, under his nails and all over his outfit. 

We have taken to feeding him naked. That is to say - he is naked. We are fully clothed. The sight of me naked is enough to put any baby/person off their food.

At this rate, next week he'll be on the Anchovy stuffed Olives and Antipasti!