Category: Moments in time

Baby number 1 spits up a little bit while being changed – you get a clean cloth, gently wipe his mouth, change his shirt because there’s a little stain on the collar, put the cloth into the laundry basket because it has now been used, quickly google: “Baby spits up a little while being changed” and spend half an hour reading about different kinds of spitting up, which naturally leads you to reading about vomiting and dehydration. Get freaked out about your baby maybe being seriously ill. Cry a bit. Or a lot.

Baby number 2 spits up a little bit while being changed – take off one of his socks, wipe his mouth, put the sock back on, quickly google: “Carrot soup” because that’s what you really feel like eating.

It’s incredible how much Molly talks and how little I understand.

Slept for two and a half hours, spent the last three and a half awake. Two more hours before Molly wakes up and we’re done for the night.
If babies grow and learn in their sleep, this night was a complete waste of time for Benny. And I didn’t particularly enjoy it either.

How to get Molly ready for a carnival party?

Have Jay put her costume on.
Watch her happily jump around.
Notice a change in her mood.
Listen to her hysterical screaming and crying while trying to eat your breakfast.
Take the costume off.
Get in the car.
Listen to her repeat “Molly bubamara!” (“Molly ladybird!”) for ten minutes on your drive to the daycare.
Put the costume back on.
Try to get Molly to stand still for the photo.
Give up on that and take a mental picture.
Breathe deeply.

I’m sure I read somewhere that if you eat a doughnut while walking quickly, you’re actually losing weight. I’m sure that it said it was scientifically proved.

I just received a confirmation email from Amazon telling me that last night, at 3.38 a.m., Night-time-me thought it would be an amazing idea to buy alphabet magnets for our fridge. Since I have almost no recollection of this, I’m convinced that Night-time-me and Day-time-me are two separate entities. This means I bear no responsibility for the absurd purchases and I can enjoy Night-time-me’s spontaneity completely guilt free. Lovely.

That strange feeling when you’re looking at your baby in his nappy at the doctor’s appointment and you irrationally fear that he’s shrunk. That awkward feeling when you realise that he’s wearing his sister’s nappy which is three sizes too big.

Some of the mums with newborns and mums-to-be might find this useful when dealing with a sleepy baby:

I call this move “The slow drop” and it consists of 6 stages:
Stage 1 (preparatory stage): make yourself comfortable on the bed but make sure there’s lots of space on one side of you (if you’re right handed, free up the space on the right hand side)
Stage 2 (comfortable stage): let the clingy baby fall asleep on top of you because that’s the only way you can get him to sleep
Stage 3 (lowering stage): when you’re sure he’s asleep, start the descend. Lower him towards the bed, half a centimetre each minute, so that he doesn’t feel that he’s being moved
Stage 4 (the riskiest stage): put him down on the bed next to you. Stop breathing so that nothing disturbs his sleep. Don’t move! And make sure at least one part of your body’s still in touch with his.
Stage 5 (waiting stage): start moving away from the baby. If you notice any change in his breathing pattern, stop moving and get back into the previous position.
Stage 6 (freedom stage): slowly get out of the bed. Try to remember why you got up. Get back into bed and take a power nap because the baby’s about to wake up in 10 minutes. If you’re lucky.

I’m following the advice of sleeping when the baby sleeps, so I’m not sleeping at all.

The joys of being a mum to a newborn: when he’s loud at night, I wish he’d just be quiet so I could sleep; when he’s quiet, I can’t sleep because I’m constantly checking if he’s breathing. I should come up with a scale for the perfect loudness of breathing and, instead of sleep training, start night-noise-training him.