So, Rachel had her first 1.5 hours at daycare yesterday. We've gone with ABC Newtown, mainly because they had a place available, but I also had a good vibe in there. I've looked at a few around town and they do seem similar in terms of facilities etc, I don't know, it's something intangible. So anyway, yesterday she had a 1.5 hour orientation. I left her there looking happy and I came back a wee while later and she was still looking happy. Monkey. I called her from the door and she was so busy looking at stuff she didn't bother turning around.
Not sure if all the excitement stimulated her too much but she missed her third sleep and then had a dreadful sleep last night. Oh well. She's a cute monkey.
Monday, May 9, 2011
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Mother's Day
My first mother's day as a mother went thus - Rachel woke at 7, and as is our wont on Sundays, she came into bed with us for a feed and a snuggle. I noticed she had some blood in her ear. So, an inspection followed. She didn't seem upset, so we weren't too worried, but then, she wasn't upset particularly when she was throwing up for hours straight after her experience with formula. So we called that 24-hour helpline who asked a few questions, agreed with us that it was a bit odd and sent us off to a GP clinic thing. I went into Rachel's room to discover a bunch of flowers and a card in her cot. Clever girl!! Luckily, and somewhat amazingly, there weren't many people waiting for the one GP on duty when we arrived. And only one of those few people seemed to be ill. Anyway. I digress. In we went, Rachel had yet another visit with a doctor who described her as particularly alert, a sticky beak etc etc (do they just say this stuff to make mothers happy?), and when he stuck that light thing in her ear, he straight away said "she's just scratched herself" which was the same conclusion we'd already reached. Nice.
After that we came home for her long morning snooze, and then went out for lunch. Simon discovered he should have booked... Apparently Rachel should have thought of that. 9_9 So we wound up at Groove Train, a huge soulless place with alright food. I had a glass of sparkling rose and a half-decent risotto. Then it was off for a wonder around the shops of central Geelong. Simon got himself a nice new jacket, Rachel got a nice little outfit for wearing at the farm (don't know why it is for the farm in particular, but Simon and I agreed on the spot it would be ideal), and we spent a little time wandering the aisles of an increasingly-empty Borders. Simon got some books. Rachel got some sleep. We had a nice coffee and then came home for me to put Rachel to bed and Simon to have a run. All in all, a pretty typical day.
Today, Simon is at home with his work team, putting in the new veranda boards. It's noisy! But a good job to get going.
After that we came home for her long morning snooze, and then went out for lunch. Simon discovered he should have booked... Apparently Rachel should have thought of that. 9_9 So we wound up at Groove Train, a huge soulless place with alright food. I had a glass of sparkling rose and a half-decent risotto. Then it was off for a wonder around the shops of central Geelong. Simon got himself a nice new jacket, Rachel got a nice little outfit for wearing at the farm (don't know why it is for the farm in particular, but Simon and I agreed on the spot it would be ideal), and we spent a little time wandering the aisles of an increasingly-empty Borders. Simon got some books. Rachel got some sleep. We had a nice coffee and then came home for me to put Rachel to bed and Simon to have a run. All in all, a pretty typical day.
Today, Simon is at home with his work team, putting in the new veranda boards. It's noisy! But a good job to get going.
Milk allergy
Our little monkey apparently has a milk allergy. Well, intolerance, whatever. She breaks out in a rash. Anyway, the story goes thus:
24-36 hours later the rash came up. And it's a really weird rash. Kind of hard, like her entire body had gone bumpy. Started on her face and then moved down her body. We were in Ballarat so took her to one of those super clinics and waited to see a GP. He had some kind of weird eye issue going on, like a really bad rash himself so I wasn't keen on having him touch our little monkey. Anyway, he said it was likely to be the milk.
The itching began. Rachel has always had fantastic little nails, needing trimming daily. So they were perfect for her to attempt to peel her own skin off. Then we discovered Farex has milk in it, so had to remove that from her diet. A trip back to our own regular GP clinic provided us with a tube of cortisone.
And eventually the rash dissipated. It's still there a bit, under her chin, where the constant dribble out of her mouth seems to keep things nice and damp.
- the monkey had a bout of laryngitis;
- we were on the move a lot - down to the farm, holiday in Anglesea and then Lorne and then Ballarat, plus her immunisations in there somewhere;
- she lost a bit of weight;
- everyone kept saying how little she was; and then
- we gave her a bottle of formula.
24-36 hours later the rash came up. And it's a really weird rash. Kind of hard, like her entire body had gone bumpy. Started on her face and then moved down her body. We were in Ballarat so took her to one of those super clinics and waited to see a GP. He had some kind of weird eye issue going on, like a really bad rash himself so I wasn't keen on having him touch our little monkey. Anyway, he said it was likely to be the milk.
The itching began. Rachel has always had fantastic little nails, needing trimming daily. So they were perfect for her to attempt to peel her own skin off. Then we discovered Farex has milk in it, so had to remove that from her diet. A trip back to our own regular GP clinic provided us with a tube of cortisone.
And eventually the rash dissipated. It's still there a bit, under her chin, where the constant dribble out of her mouth seems to keep things nice and damp.
Blogging
You know, this is the second blog I've started and not really had the momentum to keep on with. For someone who loves a chat that's a bit odd.
I really must endeavour to get my act together. So much to do...
I really must endeavour to get my act together. So much to do...
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Age
I have no idea why but I'm no good at knowing how old I am. Yesterday at a catch-up coffee with my mothers group, one of the mother's mentioned it was her birthday earlier in the week. I asked her if it was an important one and she said no, just 34. To which I said "I'm so old". And of course that led to a discussion of how old I am. I just said old, and they all thought I was much younger. Which is nice! Anyway, apparently one of the other mothers is 37, and I said I was a little bit older than that. Which I'm not!
I had to tell my husband when I got home, and he just laughed because I'm always mucking up how old I am. As in, I always add a year. Perhaps I should just start saying I'm in my 38th year, rather than saying I'm 38. Silliness.
I had to tell my husband when I got home, and he just laughed because I'm always mucking up how old I am. As in, I always add a year. Perhaps I should just start saying I'm in my 38th year, rather than saying I'm 38. Silliness.
Stress
Yesterday was a crazy day! In the morning, Rachel decided to wake for a feed at 5.30 (usually it's 7). So she had a feed and went back to sleep 'til 8.30, which meant she woke at the time she's usually going back down for her long morning sleep. So she was up for an hour or so before going back to bed again and having another snooze. Then we were off to Gymbaroo, from there straight to a cafe for lunch with my mothers group. She should have been asleep then but nope, there were people to schmooze with. She's a very social little monkey. And because she didn't sleep then, I took her home for a snooze instead of going to rhyme time at the library, which she loves as much as she loves Gymbaroo. And that's when the maternal health nurse called. So, in order to exlain that I need to tell you about yesterday. Which means I also need to tell you about last week. And our 4-month maternal health nurse check-up. Kapish?
Last Tuesday, Rachel started to lose her voice. She got really quite hoarse by Thursday, so I made an appointment with her GP. Earliest I could get in was yesterday afternoon. So off we toddled, despite Rachel being markedly better. Thought I may as well get her checked out. The GP declared her very healthy, and decided the little monkey had had a bout of laryngitis caused by a virus. Made sense to me, as she'd also had a bit of a runny nose the week before. The GP also described her as a sticky beak, particularly alert and really quite a lovely little girl. Which was also the general consensus of all the men in the waiting room she'd been smiling at. Anyway, at our 4-month check-up, Rachel's weight was on the low side, as I've mentioned before, between the 25th and 10th percentiles. Length and head circumference were on the 25th. The maternal health nurse suggested weighing her again at 5 months to track what was happening. So, as I forgot to ask the GP, I ducked into the maternal health centre on the way home to use the scales they have set up in the breastfeeding room they provide. And horrors - she'd lost weight. At 4 months she was 5.34 kg, and at as-good-as-5-months, she was 5.26 kg. I went into a bit of a funk about it, thinking of all the people who'd said "she's so little!!", "isn't she dainty/petite/a cute little thing" etc. And then I thought about her being so alert and smiley and happy and a pretty good sleeper (she certainly does the 14.5 hours recommended for her age, without being what's the word, insipid? Not quite, but can't get it at the moment), and I thought, the scales must be wrong. So, I called the maternal health centre when I got home, as there had been no one in the office when I was there, just to have a chat and see if their scales were stupid. I got the central office and left my name and number for the nurse to call back. Rachel had been held up side-by-side with other babies her age at mothers group, and goodness me, she really is little. So I was starting to stress a bit. And then the maternal health nurse called and started banging on about "give her formula". Nope nope nope. So, after she tried that a few times more, she clicked that I wasn't into the idea and suggested giving her top up bottles of expressed milk. Lucky we'd given her a bottle for the first time the night before, and she took to it like a duck to etc. This afternoon I gave her a top-up 40ml after her afternoon feed, and then another 120ml with her last feed. I am on an expressing mission. And I think I'm going to start solids. She is certainly interested in food. For the brief time at mothers group lunch when she was on my knee (rather than someone else's, getting in cuddles all over the place), she was trying to get into my salad. Or was it the goat's cheese? I'm still sceptical that the scales are a bit dodgy - she's been growing out of some of her clothes. Hm. So now I have to take her back to the GP to make sure there isn't something wrong, even though she was declared healthy yesterday. Sigh.
Last Tuesday, Rachel started to lose her voice. She got really quite hoarse by Thursday, so I made an appointment with her GP. Earliest I could get in was yesterday afternoon. So off we toddled, despite Rachel being markedly better. Thought I may as well get her checked out. The GP declared her very healthy, and decided the little monkey had had a bout of laryngitis caused by a virus. Made sense to me, as she'd also had a bit of a runny nose the week before. The GP also described her as a sticky beak, particularly alert and really quite a lovely little girl. Which was also the general consensus of all the men in the waiting room she'd been smiling at. Anyway, at our 4-month check-up, Rachel's weight was on the low side, as I've mentioned before, between the 25th and 10th percentiles. Length and head circumference were on the 25th. The maternal health nurse suggested weighing her again at 5 months to track what was happening. So, as I forgot to ask the GP, I ducked into the maternal health centre on the way home to use the scales they have set up in the breastfeeding room they provide. And horrors - she'd lost weight. At 4 months she was 5.34 kg, and at as-good-as-5-months, she was 5.26 kg. I went into a bit of a funk about it, thinking of all the people who'd said "she's so little!!", "isn't she dainty/petite/a cute little thing" etc. And then I thought about her being so alert and smiley and happy and a pretty good sleeper (she certainly does the 14.5 hours recommended for her age, without being what's the word, insipid? Not quite, but can't get it at the moment), and I thought, the scales must be wrong. So, I called the maternal health centre when I got home, as there had been no one in the office when I was there, just to have a chat and see if their scales were stupid. I got the central office and left my name and number for the nurse to call back. Rachel had been held up side-by-side with other babies her age at mothers group, and goodness me, she really is little. So I was starting to stress a bit. And then the maternal health nurse called and started banging on about "give her formula". Nope nope nope. So, after she tried that a few times more, she clicked that I wasn't into the idea and suggested giving her top up bottles of expressed milk. Lucky we'd given her a bottle for the first time the night before, and she took to it like a duck to etc. This afternoon I gave her a top-up 40ml after her afternoon feed, and then another 120ml with her last feed. I am on an expressing mission. And I think I'm going to start solids. She is certainly interested in food. For the brief time at mothers group lunch when she was on my knee (rather than someone else's, getting in cuddles all over the place), she was trying to get into my salad. Or was it the goat's cheese? I'm still sceptical that the scales are a bit dodgy - she's been growing out of some of her clothes. Hm. So now I have to take her back to the GP to make sure there isn't something wrong, even though she was declared healthy yesterday. Sigh.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Our puppy
Grief
Here's something I wrote years ago, about a break-up. It's remarkably and brutally honest:
There is something so self-indulgent in letting go of grief. I have found myself sobbing in recent weeks, and each time the grief is genuine (although I can’t quite work out why I’m so upset about this particular break-up), but when I start to cry, I listen to myself and start to experiment with the sounds I am making. I have never wept as I have recently, and the experience is as fascinating as the break-down of the relationship has been crushing. I don’t want to trivialise my poor little broken heart, wrenched from my sleeve and booted all over the place, but I’ve never experienced grief in this way. I have lost multiple members of my close-knit extended family in a short space of time when other mini-disasters were occurring around me, and whilst I certainly cried, it’s never been this awful. When I finally plucked up the courage to leave my then love-of-my-life after five years together, I was devastated (and subsequently went on a bit of a self-destructive bender). Leaving my (only) other live-in partner after 2 years of trying so hard to fix what couldn’t be meant tears, but that was relief mixed with pain, and a sense of failure at not being able to help someone who refused any offer.
This is genuine grief and it has snuck up on me. I’ve experienced gut-wrenching emotional pain that has left me doubled-over when I walk out of my bedroom, knowing he’ll never set foot in there again. Putting the last glass he drank out of in the dishwasher reduces me to emitting a loud, self-indulgent moan. And throwing his toothbrush in the bin took me weeks, just in case, despite all the signs to the contrary.
I think what has hurt me is the loss of optimism. I have now been lied to by men in every cliched way possible. Or at least I think so at the moment. If there is one thing I have always had, it’s optimism. After each dumb, stupid break-up, I’ve always known I’ll fall in love again. Maybe I haven’t let myself go completely ever after that first heartbreak, but this time I came close (in retrospect, I know I didn’t really). But this time, I have my doubts that I can open myself up for this again. They all lie, and not in meaningless, silly little white lie ways but in soul-crushing/destroying ways. How can I even think about trusting someone again?
It’s been three months and I’m still spilling tears over it. Not over him, but over what it would have been if he hadn’t lied, and if I’d been honest to myself and to him. How can I even think about opening myself up for this again? I can’t believe I’ve lost my optimism. How do I get it back? How do I get it back? How do I get it back? I don’t want to be alone, but I can’t bare the thought of living through this again. What the .uck am I going to do with my life if I can’t be my usual, optimistic self who has managed to hook up with every cliche in the book? The serial cheater, the drunk, the one who couldn’t get himself together to be anything, and now the one who filled my head with all the right stuff, only to turn and walk away without even blinking. My usual, optimistic self keeps .ucking up.
Why do people speed in Geelong?
After my recent, riveting post on indicator use in Geelong, I've been thinking about people and speeding in Geelong. We live reasonably near La Trobe Terrace. And people hoon down that road like you would not believe. Our street comes off La Trobe Terrace, with traffic lights, and people hoon down our street too.
It's enough to make me want to move so my puppy and my child don't get hit by some moron who is either rushing to make the lights, or feels the need to race to the end of our street to see the waters of Corio Bay. Morons.
Our puppy has already been hit once - by a driver who didn't stop. What kind of person hits a puppy and doesn't stop? And before you say "irresponsible dog owner let dog out near busy road", nope, it wasn't me or even my husband. Tradesmen, working under the house, accidentally let the little man out. Poor blokes were quite distressed. Luckily for everyone the puppy was fine. A quick trip to the vet (who says new mothers can't get out of the house in under five minutes?) to check him out and he was back in the garden running riot. Probably the painkiller helped with that.
It's enough to make me want to move so my puppy and my child don't get hit by some moron who is either rushing to make the lights, or feels the need to race to the end of our street to see the waters of Corio Bay. Morons.
Our puppy has already been hit once - by a driver who didn't stop. What kind of person hits a puppy and doesn't stop? And before you say "irresponsible dog owner let dog out near busy road", nope, it wasn't me or even my husband. Tradesmen, working under the house, accidentally let the little man out. Poor blokes were quite distressed. Luckily for everyone the puppy was fine. A quick trip to the vet (who says new mothers can't get out of the house in under five minutes?) to check him out and he was back in the garden running riot. Probably the painkiller helped with that.
Why don't people use indicators in Geelong?
Why don't people use indicators in Geelong?
I mean, not even at roundabouts. It's irritating beyond compare!! I was sitting at that big roundabout on the river, Highton I think the suburb is called, waiting waiting waiting for this car to come around, how rude of the driver to not use the indicator. I mean, sometimes it happens, people change their minds or whatever. But unless Geelong residents are the most indecisive (or the most what's the word, impulsive), as a rule, every time I go around a roundabout (say that ten times fast), at least one driver there with me doesn't indicate properly.
Including my husband. Grr.
I mean, not even at roundabouts. It's irritating beyond compare!! I was sitting at that big roundabout on the river, Highton I think the suburb is called, waiting waiting waiting for this car to come around, how rude of the driver to not use the indicator. I mean, sometimes it happens, people change their minds or whatever. But unless Geelong residents are the most indecisive (or the most what's the word, impulsive), as a rule, every time I go around a roundabout (say that ten times fast), at least one driver there with me doesn't indicate properly.
Including my husband. Grr.
Motherhood Part I
Motherhood seems a bit easier than they tell you. Maybe it's because I've always been an insomniac and the lack of sleep doesn't kill me. It irritates me, but it doesn't kill me. We're almost four months in now.
I've just watched my niece, who lives in the US, on my sister's blog. She's exactly one year older than our munchkin, it's quite amazing to think Rachel will be up and about and talking and sweeping the floor and playing with crayons in around about a year.
Rachel rolled over on her own again today. She seems happy to do it now and then, just not every day. That makes it a bit easier for me at this stage I guess as she isn't doing it in her bed yet, so we can keep swaddling her.
I've just watched my niece, who lives in the US, on my sister's blog. She's exactly one year older than our munchkin, it's quite amazing to think Rachel will be up and about and talking and sweeping the floor and playing with crayons in around about a year.
Rachel rolled over on her own again today. She seems happy to do it now and then, just not every day. That makes it a bit easier for me at this stage I guess as she isn't doing it in her bed yet, so we can keep swaddling her.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Thinking
Why is it that in bed last night I thought of a million funny things to write in this blog but this morning I couldn't really remember them?
Husband is home now so he's taken baby for a bit. That means I should be doing stuff like sterilising equipment for expressing, so I can, shock horror, get someone else to feed the munchkin. Or perhaps I should have a shower? Or perhaps just do some shopping online... No... I have to quit that. I should be selling stuff on eBay not looking at Yoox or theOutnet. Sigh.
Husband is home now so he's taken baby for a bit. That means I should be doing stuff like sterilising equipment for expressing, so I can, shock horror, get someone else to feed the munchkin. Or perhaps I should have a shower? Or perhaps just do some shopping online... No... I have to quit that. I should be selling stuff on eBay not looking at Yoox or theOutnet. Sigh.
Partners in Aid
I sit on the board of a volunteer NGO called Partners in Aid. I'm currently the honorary secretary. I seem to have a lot of ideas and then not a lot of time to get down and do them. I mean, clearly I have a bit of spare time as I sit here typing a blog... Anyway, I eventually get stuff done but it would be better for my soul I'm sure if I did things quickly. As a crazy lecturer once told me, it's not that I don't have time, it's that I haven't prioritised things as I think I should. He wasn't talking about me, he was talking about procrastination in general. I tend to do alright academically.
I'm also super keen to go visit the projects we sponsor - in India, Bangladesh and the Philippines. Time and money again. Plus I guess my husband isn't real keen on me taking out baby to a third world country. He worries a lot about food.
I'm also super keen to go visit the projects we sponsor - in India, Bangladesh and the Philippines. Time and money again. Plus I guess my husband isn't real keen on me taking out baby to a third world country. He worries a lot about food.
Renovating
Our house was built in 1914, which makes it kinda old. It's weatherboard, with a 1990s extension up top that is pretty darned ugly. I'd really like to change a few things about the house but it's not an option at the moment. Poo. So we've made it livable in time for the arrival of our baby. I fell pregnant a whole lot easier and sooner than expected. I wasn't really meant to be able to get pregnant and yet first time we took a risk bammo - bambino. Which also meant I was knocked up at my wedding, which I was adamant I didn't want to be.
I thought I'd enjoy renovating more than I have done. I think I'm more designed to potter in the garden than paint doors and such like. I did enjoy tearing out the two kitchens (the upstairs extension was a self-contained area for the previous owner's carer) and pulling out nails and sorting wood to re-use it. It's been a pretty big job and it has exhausted us at times, but there is light at the end of the tunnel now. Which means I can select furniture. I've spent a lot of time ambling through the op shops and second hand furniture places of Geelong but am yet to find the few pieces I want. I've even looked at a few places selling new furniture but that seems exorbitant when there is so much second hand stuff out there.
I thought I'd enjoy renovating more than I have done. I think I'm more designed to potter in the garden than paint doors and such like. I did enjoy tearing out the two kitchens (the upstairs extension was a self-contained area for the previous owner's carer) and pulling out nails and sorting wood to re-use it. It's been a pretty big job and it has exhausted us at times, but there is light at the end of the tunnel now. Which means I can select furniture. I've spent a lot of time ambling through the op shops and second hand furniture places of Geelong but am yet to find the few pieces I want. I've even looked at a few places selling new furniture but that seems exorbitant when there is so much second hand stuff out there.
Why a blog?
Why a blog? Well because "everyone" keeps telling me to write one. Or even just to write. It's nice that my friends think I'm funny.
What labels should I put on this entry? Cogitation?
So a bit about me. I'm 37 or so (I often forget), I have been married for almost one year to a boy who grew up with me in the same itsy bitsy Western Victoria town, and I have a nearly 3-month old baby girl. I spent most of my twenties doing the work-travel-run out of money-work-travel thing, which meant I was back at uni finishing up the ever-handy Arts degree in my early thirties. Since then I've collected a couple of Grad. Cert.'s, one in Development Studies and one in Sustainability. I'm kind of keen to finish up with a Masters but time, money, enthusiasm... All of these things get in the way.
I'm a stay-at-home mother for the moment, but am thinking I'd like to get back to work. I think this for a few reasons - one it'd be good for my baby to spend some time with another care giver and other children. And two if I was earning a bit of an income we could finish renovating the house. Or so my husband tells me.
Speaking of renovations, we live in a nice house in a nice suburb in the town (city) of Geelong. The house is almost 100 years old and needed a lot of work when we moved in around 18 months ago. I went without a kitchen for a long time whilst heavily pregnant. I don't recommend that. When we bought the house, my builder husband told me it'd take 6 weeks to get the house done. We're still going. It's starting to look pretty good though. I'd like to completely change the back, as the kitchen is tiny relative to the house. I'd also like to get the garden finished. The front is almost done (despite the painters having a good go at accidentally stomping on it).
I'd not ever really spent a lot of time in Geelong before we moved here (from my little flat in Southbank), but it's proving to be a nice enough place to live. I think wherever you live it's about the people and experiences you gather around you. Which sounds wankier than it's meant to.
So I might go onto another post now...
What labels should I put on this entry? Cogitation?
So a bit about me. I'm 37 or so (I often forget), I have been married for almost one year to a boy who grew up with me in the same itsy bitsy Western Victoria town, and I have a nearly 3-month old baby girl. I spent most of my twenties doing the work-travel-run out of money-work-travel thing, which meant I was back at uni finishing up the ever-handy Arts degree in my early thirties. Since then I've collected a couple of Grad. Cert.'s, one in Development Studies and one in Sustainability. I'm kind of keen to finish up with a Masters but time, money, enthusiasm... All of these things get in the way.
I'm a stay-at-home mother for the moment, but am thinking I'd like to get back to work. I think this for a few reasons - one it'd be good for my baby to spend some time with another care giver and other children. And two if I was earning a bit of an income we could finish renovating the house. Or so my husband tells me.
Speaking of renovations, we live in a nice house in a nice suburb in the town (city) of Geelong. The house is almost 100 years old and needed a lot of work when we moved in around 18 months ago. I went without a kitchen for a long time whilst heavily pregnant. I don't recommend that. When we bought the house, my builder husband told me it'd take 6 weeks to get the house done. We're still going. It's starting to look pretty good though. I'd like to completely change the back, as the kitchen is tiny relative to the house. I'd also like to get the garden finished. The front is almost done (despite the painters having a good go at accidentally stomping on it).
I'd not ever really spent a lot of time in Geelong before we moved here (from my little flat in Southbank), but it's proving to be a nice enough place to live. I think wherever you live it's about the people and experiences you gather around you. Which sounds wankier than it's meant to.
So I might go onto another post now...
My first entry.
It's 10 o'clock at night and my baby is asleep, my husband is watching Sunday night telly and I'm sitting on the computer waiting for iTunes to download an update for my iPhone. Exciting stuff. I'm a wee bit sunburnt (should that be sunburned?) after a day in Torquay. I kind of didn't want to go because I thought it would be a bit of a nightmare with Rachel (aforementioned baby, 12 1/2 weeks old). But it turned out to be alright, quite easy in fact. Bit like most stuff related to this baby shenanigans. We got there, had some lunch, Rachel went to sleep, we went for a walk, I fed her, Simon (aforementioned husband, 37 1/2 years old) took her for a walk whilst I was supposed to have a nap in the shade (I spent most of the time playing Scrabble on my iPhone), we walked some more (Rachel slept), had coffee (Rachel slept), went and got fish and chips (Rachel howled), and then went to eat the fish and chips looking over the beach. My fish and chips were cold because I fed Rachel first but other than that, well, I shouldn't say other than that, as in fact - the fish and chips tasted pretty good cold. Then we came home and Simon gave the baby a bath whilst I pottered around doing laundry and such like. Kinda easy.
Rachel has yet to be sick or unmanageable. I think my opinion on babies being easy might change when she gets sick or plays up.
Rachel has yet to be sick or unmanageable. I think my opinion on babies being easy might change when she gets sick or plays up.
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