Do Me A Solid?

KNOCK-KNOCK
Who’s there?
My six monks.
My six monks who?
My six monks old baby, that’s who!

Can you believe it? Our little bloke has just notched up half a year on his nappy belt. Which makes me wonder if he’s still considered a baby or is he now a toddler? And what actually is the difference? Sources tell me a toddler is when he starts wearing velvet robes, a cravat, smokes a pipe and sips martinis. (“Sources” is a term used loosely for the voices in my head). And if that’s the case, Hugh Hefner is the luckiest toddler in town.

But it also means some chemical changes are going on. Namely…“fusion”. Now, before you break out the hazmat suits and confuse it with nuclear fusion, (mind you, I’m pretty sure some of his nappy contents would set off a Geiger counter), it’s also the state in which a liquid changes to a solid. (Not to be confused with WA, which is the state in which all your solids revert to liquid…that’s some heat, phew!).

Known to scientists as “solidifying”, known to parents as, “eating” and known to babies as, “remodelling” the kitchen. (See also: “How can I get this tiniest bit of food and spray it all over the walls, ceiling, floor, myself, mummy and daddy…without actually getting any of it in my mouth?”)… Or the opening scene of Saving Private Ryan…but with food.

Which means we now have the incredibly interesting and somewhat amusing task of putting different types of food in front of him and see what he does.

At the end of round one, the judge’s scores are as follows;

Banana – thumbs up.
Armadillo – who are you trying to kid?
Avocado – much easier to get out of its shell.
Sweet potato – big thumbs up.
Unsweet potato – whatchoo talkin’ ’bout, Willis?
Broccoli – thumbs down.
Broccolini – thumbs up.
(Maybe because when choosing which foods to eat, broccolini is so much easier to rhyme with “Eanie-Meanie”…)

And at this point, the clear winner by far is…

Apricots

And seeing as they have a laxative affect, it’s smells smiles all round for all of us. And all this mess has brought out my innovative side, where instead of trying to clean up all the food that ends up on the floor, his high chair fits perfectly into his wading pool. All he needs is a quick hosing down after meals. Only problem is, he’s not allowed out of his chair for an hour after eating 😉

That’s the rules…I saw it on Baywatch.

Wading pool makes for a great food catcher!

This kid will eat anything…even a car!

Breast Feeds Come To Those Who Wait

Previously…in an earlier post, LOST VS Schnitzel, because Indy was taking sooo long to arrive, I ended with the comment…

…just cut to the end already!!

In actual fact, that is EXACTLY what they did.

The frustrating thing about having a cesarian (besides being opened up and gutted like a fish and incessantly “shooing off” circling Japanese Whale boats), is that, breast milk takes way longer to come in than Kirsty Alley running an Olympic marathon.

Which means our little man wasn’t getting as much milk as he could the traditional way and he lost more than 10% of his birth weight. I know that sounds awesome to Kirtsy Alley, but not so good for babies.

So, we had to give our little bloke formula and/or breast milk “top-ups” to ensure he was getting enough sustenance to keep his weight up. Problem is, that means pumping milk, mixing bottles and washing, boiling and sterilising ’til the cows come home.

(See my earlier post: It All Boils Down To This).

Enter, the Lactation Specialist to our rescue (“Come wit me if you vant to live!”), who provided us with a new approach to top-up feeding. So that, Indy didn’t get used to the idea of drinking from a bottle (better keep him away from those impressionable wino’s in the park, then), one end of this feed line sits in the bottom of the bottle of formula or expressed milk (just because it’s expressed, doesn’t make it any faster), and the other end feeds up through the bottle teat and sneaks into the corner of Indy’s mouth while he suckles at the “tuck-shop”.

That way, he stays on the breast much longer and the more stimulation it gets, the more milk will come. So, essentially he’s syphoning milk from one bottle at the same time as sucking on the breast. Talk about multi-tasking, and he’s only 5 weeks old!

The good news is, we only had to do this for about 2 weeks straight. His weight is back up (careful, Kirsty Alley), the milk is coming in, so he’s now exclusively pumping his own petrol at the bowser.

Best of all (and to our relief), it means our Pinocchio is growing into a real boy and more importantly, we have ourselves…a happy little customer.

(As this pic, “clearly” demonstrates) lol 🙂

It All Boils Down To This

Apart from a couple trips outside for baby health checks and to bring the garbage bins back in off the street, I haven’t moved outside of a six foot radius between the sink, the stove and the laundry basket…in over six days!

Like Lucille Ball in the infamous chocolate factory conveyor belt scene. I’m like the flustered production line worker desperately trying to juggle and manage the ever increasing, non-stop conveyor belt of shift rotations between washing puked-on baby and parent clothes, preparing formula top-ups and my god…

The boiling…What’s with all the boiling??!!

Bottles, dummies, teats, breast pumps, furniture, roofing tiles. You name it, it goes in the pot. I think Starbucks “worldwide”, boils less water than I do. Not since the Three Witches in Shakespeare’s Macbeth or Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction (How do you like your bunny? Boiled, steamed or fried?), has there been so much action around a bubbling cauldron. 

I’ve never quite understood the purpose behind ensuring everything that goes into the baby’s mouth is more sterile than a Chernobyl eunuch in a uranium cod-piece. It’s not like you can boil his own fingers or his mother’s nipples for that matter. I mean, look at places like India, Africa or China. I’m pretty sure not everyone there is boiling everything all the time, and they have baby populations almost as big as Frankston.

But, it’s what the experts tell us and who are we to stand in the way of Indy’s health?

So, it’s up to me to keep the home fires burning, and keep the melting pot a’bubblin’ until we finally reach MY boiling point.

But with each passing day, things get easier and easier. And in the grand scheme of things where my boy’s health is concerned, I just have to remind myself to just simmer down…it really ain’t all that bad 😉

Food Glorious Food

Our little tenant turns Sweet 16...(Weeks, that is), which means we have plenty of things to celebrate.

There’s an old saying, “It’s hard to keep a good man down”, well, in my beautiful lady’s case, the same can be said for food.

But thankfully, at this stage in the game…

The “sicks” have finally left the building…

Which means, my lovely lady can finally enjoy…

“Food, glorious food!”

There’s nothing so satisfying or brings a tear to the eye more than the enjoyment of watching your loved one crawl into the belly of a wild boar…and eat her way out. Oh, the joy! To finally order and finish a pizza with the lot…chairs, tables…everything. To see the waiter cringe nervously and patrons run screaming for their lives at the “all-you-can-eat buffet”. Makes a man feel proud 🙂

Both my babies are finally getting sustenance. But I can never tell if she’s looking at me with love and passion in her eyes…or just imagining me as a giant cartoon pork chop. Either way, I’m more than happy to be on the menu 😉

And at Week 16, another new and exciting affliction has come to visit…

The Burps.

Wow, it’s very rare to go a sentence or two without a little belch popping out. Blame it on those damn hormones wreaking havoc with her gastric tract. It’s a little like spending time with Homer Simpson or the Exorcist. But waaay sexier.

Which brings up another interesting observation for me. Just how sexy my lady looks pregnant…“row-row”.

Which reminds me…I’m just gonna go see what’s on tonight’s menu…

“Mmmm, the Exorcist”.