Alright, I am a little late. Okay, 10 days late. I’m sorry. Your first month birthday was November 6th but you weren’t around to celebrate at the time so I couldn’t celebrate properly or take a photo (this will be remedied today). Your mum took you off to Far, Far Away to TSD and the Other Grandma whom I have resisted the urge to resort back to calling them both Fucktard and Skanky Ho, to spend a week – and then a week and a half – in their presence so they could pretend to actually care about you. I’m sure on some level they do care, what with you being blood relation to them and all. I hope so, anyway.
So, this month has seen us all getting into a routine with you and for the most part, you are a lovely little baby. MS was worried that you might not bond with her, especially after what happened during your birth but constant reassurance allayed those fears and you yourself have proved that no one else but Mum will do when you’re sleepy, hungry, crappy, or in any other way discontent.
We did have some problems with “le juice de boob” for a few days as well in that first two weeks and even after MS’s milk did come in, you simply couldn’t attach properly no matter how much she tried to help you. I think a point to remember here, peanut, is that waving your hands around in front of your face and prodding at said nipplage will make make it hard to attach. Refraining from doing this wavy-hands bit actually helps in the getting of the foods!
Ah well, boys will never be told. It’s got to be your own idea.
MS eventually gave up, preferring to have a full happy baby than a hungry unhappy baby and resorted to the bottle. Slowly the bottle has taken over all of your meals. We don’t mind too much. You got the important bit for a couple of weeks and that’s what counts. What she decides is best for both you and her is her own business.
Now, this is the bit where I say “STOP GROWING!”. Seriously, within the first three weeks of your life you grew out of the 0000 clothes and now at a whapping five weeks of age, 000 clothes are starting to look snug. Give the rest of the babies a chance to catch up! You’ve got a present coming to you from the states that needs to fit so I can get a picture of you in it.
What else have we learnt about our little Freddles? You hate the cold! Well, that’s your right. You earnt it. The night you were born you were thrown into an incubator, naked and squawling for half an hour while they waited for your temperature to go down. And MS is so frightened of burning your tender skin that she will not bathe you in anything warmer than ice fresh out of the arctic. You love the big, cuddly woolen blanket that MS wraps in you afterwards though, and the contentment on your face is the most bone-meltingly cute thing I’ve ever seen.
You also seem to prefer the “roo pouch” as your preferred method of transportation and the warmth of MS, as well as the constant motion, lulls you right to sleep for a good long time that lets us get the shopping done and home before you realise you have to wake up because you’re hungry.
Finally, you haven’t christened any of us yet, though you have managed to get yourself in the eye a couple of times. No, it’s not very funny. I know it stings. I’m so sorry for laughing so hard that first time.