Today we dedicated the little man to God. His name means "Gift of God" and that he is. We recognise that because Nate is a gift, we are merely stewards of his life. He belongs, first and foremost, to God. As such, we choose to raise him within the community of faith that is the church, teaching him to obey all that Christ has revealed to us and taught us. We will need God's help to be the best parents to Nate that we can be.
We hide Nate under the wings of the Almighty, and cover him in Christ's blood, that no harm or evil may befall him. Our prayer for Nate on this special day is that he will grow into faith himself, choosing to find his identity in Christ. We ask that he will grow into all that God has planned and prepared for him, choosing never to compromise or shirk God's will. May he walk the path God has called him to and may he complete all the good works that God has prepared in advance for him to do. May his life be fruitful, and may he bring words of life, hope, encouragement, joy and peace to everyone he meets. May his gifts and talents find their greatest expression in glorifying God. May he share in his Creator's creativity and develop an enquiring mind. May anger, depression, pride and rebellion have no place in his heart. Rather, may the fruit of the Spirit (love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness and self-control) grow daily in him. May he be filled with the Spirit to the fullest measure. May he know the voice of the Lord and be obedient to it. May he know the height, depth, breadth and width of God's love for him, and may he never doubt either God's love for him, or our love for him.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Junior fishbowls
On Wednesday I took Janel to have a full OT assessment. Given that she was born 7 weeks prem, we've had lingering concerns about her development. Comments from her teacher at nursery have played into our concerns. Upon discussing some of our concerns with her paed, he advised us (if for no other reason that to allay our fears) to have her assessed.
On Friday, G and I went back to hear the report. It's mostly good news: she's FINE. In some areas, like in building a tower with particular blocks, the OT said she'd never had a child her age use all the blocks, or so quickly, to build such a well balanced tower. *parental glow*. In others (like completing a 3-D maze) she didn't score so well. However, the overall report is that she's reached every milestone she should have for her developmental age and has no lingering physical problems that are not typical for her age group.
The bad news. There's always bad news. The bad news is that her emotional landscape is fractured. (Those are my words, not the OT's.) This means that she's not coping well with stress, and has adopted the detachment strategy for coping. Hmm... Actually, as I said to G as we were leaving, this assessment has really boosted my confidence in my own parenting skills. The reason for that is that I knew this. Intuitively I knew this. I knew that Janel has no physical problems. I knew that all the odd physical and behavioural things we have been seeing and dealing with were not because she was incapable, but because she was trying to express something going on internally for which she has neither the vocabulary nor the cognisance to recognise. The fact that I knew this means that I really do know my child and that my instincts about her are right. When it comes to Nellie, "I really should listen to [myself] more often". (Sorry - that's a very personal family joke.)
Reflecting on her life, this internal scatteredness she's experiencing is no surprise. She was only 9 months old when I fell pregnant with Zoe, and that pregnancy was horrible, so I wasn't feeling great and so wasn't really being a good Mommy to her. She was 16 months old when Zoe died. Not only was that a massive shock to her, but as a family it took a massive toll on us. She was only 19 months when we moved to SA - leaving her much-adored day-mother behind. She was only 22 months when she started at nursery (in itself an event that took her about 4-6 months to adjust to), and 23 months when we moved house again. She was then nearly 3 years when I fell pregnant again (another time of Mommy being a bad Mommy because I felt so ill and sore, but both of us were feeling paranoid and stressed about the possibility of losing him), and then Nathan was born 3 months ago. Plus, we moved house AGAIN 4 months ago. That's a pretty big catalogue of major events to deal with for any person, let alone a small child who can't express what she's thinking and feeling.
Under the circumstances, I think she's done amazingly. The OT said she suspects that Janel has the potential to be a BRILLIANT child. I agree. She's being hampered by her inner turmoil, tying her up in knots and making it difficult for her to adequately participate in group activities.
Knowing this is good news. It means there is something we can do. Thus, we're strongly considering a short course of play therapy sessions for her, helping her to not only process all she's been through in her short life, but also to create some inner infrastructure for her so that she can continue to develop and grow into the beautiful person she is.
Of course, this assessment has cost us an arm and a leg. But I think it's worth it. I want my child to be able to make the right choices in her life. At the moment, when she's faced with a choice she can't handle, she's choosing not to engage - it's the whole paralysis thing again (see yesterday's post). She'd rather detach than engage. She can play on her own happily for quite a while, but put her in a group situation and she's overwhelmed by the choices she has to make. I'm hoping that by helping her to create her own fishbowl, or at least give her the tools to do so, we will be enabling her to deal with the anxiety she feels and that, ultimately, she will be a better and happier person for it.
And if not, well, she will have had some very expensive play dates!
On Friday, G and I went back to hear the report. It's mostly good news: she's FINE. In some areas, like in building a tower with particular blocks, the OT said she'd never had a child her age use all the blocks, or so quickly, to build such a well balanced tower. *parental glow*. In others (like completing a 3-D maze) she didn't score so well. However, the overall report is that she's reached every milestone she should have for her developmental age and has no lingering physical problems that are not typical for her age group.
The bad news. There's always bad news. The bad news is that her emotional landscape is fractured. (Those are my words, not the OT's.) This means that she's not coping well with stress, and has adopted the detachment strategy for coping. Hmm... Actually, as I said to G as we were leaving, this assessment has really boosted my confidence in my own parenting skills. The reason for that is that I knew this. Intuitively I knew this. I knew that Janel has no physical problems. I knew that all the odd physical and behavioural things we have been seeing and dealing with were not because she was incapable, but because she was trying to express something going on internally for which she has neither the vocabulary nor the cognisance to recognise. The fact that I knew this means that I really do know my child and that my instincts about her are right. When it comes to Nellie, "I really should listen to [myself] more often". (Sorry - that's a very personal family joke.)
Reflecting on her life, this internal scatteredness she's experiencing is no surprise. She was only 9 months old when I fell pregnant with Zoe, and that pregnancy was horrible, so I wasn't feeling great and so wasn't really being a good Mommy to her. She was 16 months old when Zoe died. Not only was that a massive shock to her, but as a family it took a massive toll on us. She was only 19 months when we moved to SA - leaving her much-adored day-mother behind. She was only 22 months when she started at nursery (in itself an event that took her about 4-6 months to adjust to), and 23 months when we moved house again. She was then nearly 3 years when I fell pregnant again (another time of Mommy being a bad Mommy because I felt so ill and sore, but both of us were feeling paranoid and stressed about the possibility of losing him), and then Nathan was born 3 months ago. Plus, we moved house AGAIN 4 months ago. That's a pretty big catalogue of major events to deal with for any person, let alone a small child who can't express what she's thinking and feeling.
Under the circumstances, I think she's done amazingly. The OT said she suspects that Janel has the potential to be a BRILLIANT child. I agree. She's being hampered by her inner turmoil, tying her up in knots and making it difficult for her to adequately participate in group activities.
Knowing this is good news. It means there is something we can do. Thus, we're strongly considering a short course of play therapy sessions for her, helping her to not only process all she's been through in her short life, but also to create some inner infrastructure for her so that she can continue to develop and grow into the beautiful person she is.
Of course, this assessment has cost us an arm and a leg. But I think it's worth it. I want my child to be able to make the right choices in her life. At the moment, when she's faced with a choice she can't handle, she's choosing not to engage - it's the whole paralysis thing again (see yesterday's post). She'd rather detach than engage. She can play on her own happily for quite a while, but put her in a group situation and she's overwhelmed by the choices she has to make. I'm hoping that by helping her to create her own fishbowl, or at least give her the tools to do so, we will be enabling her to deal with the anxiety she feels and that, ultimately, she will be a better and happier person for it.
And if not, well, she will have had some very expensive play dates!
Saturday, September 19, 2009
We need a fishbowl
The thing with fishbowls is that they limit the fish, in terms of where they can swim. That seems rather obvious, I know, but it is important to consider this, because it has massive ramifications.
I recently came across a website called TEDtalks. It's a video hosting site for inspirational talks. This morning I watched a 20 minute talk by Barry Schwartz, on his latest book 'The paradox of choice: why less is more". Being the good student that I am, I took notes. Briefly, his arguments were that:
1) Increasing the number of choices we have increases our inability to make a choice, thus increasing paralysis. He quoted a study in which it was found that for every 10-fold increase in the number of medical plans they offered, companies saw a 2% drop in the uptake of ANY medical plan by their employees. I get this. When I'm faced with 10 different types of shampoo, it takes me HOURS to make a decision. Give me only 2 and I can tell you immediately which one I want. (This doesn't work with chocolate as I'll want all 10. THAT decision is easy.)
2) Increasing the number of choices we have decreases our satisfaction with the choice we ultimately make, because we feel there should be a choice that is perfect in every way (which there isn't). So true. Clothes shopping is like that for me. There are SO many different types of jeans now... firstly I have to get the right size (which is brand dependent), then I have to decide on a colour (blue, red, black, green, white, stonewashed, acid washed, etc, etc), then I have to decide on whether I want a hipster or full waisted pair, and then I have to decide what leg shape I want (boot-leg is my usual favourite, so that's fairly easy), and the type of fit I want (regular, slim, etc). NO WONDER it takes me ages to work through the various combinations and try on the resulting possible matches. And then, once you find the pair that fits best (note: NOT the perfect fit, because nothing fits me perfectly anymore), I then have to work up the guts to pay the ridiculous price attached.
3) There are opportunity costs involved in every choice. ie. every time you make a choice FOR something, you are also making a choice AGAINST something else. I learnt this lesson while in the UK. G and I were very jealous about his siblings' travel exploits, until we realised that we'd made different choices, and that neither set of choices was right or wrong. We discovered that we're creatures of habit: we like to have a fixed abode with our creature comforts; we like to have a regular place of employment; we like to have a relatively stable network of friends around us. We DON'T like constantly having to share our space (including our bathroom) with 5 others; we don't like having to work out which trains/ tubes/ buses we were going to use to get to work; we don't like having to phone up the agencies all the time to get work; we don't like being away from our friends. The cost of the travel opportunity is all those things we don't like. The cost of the non-travel opportunities are that we never travelled as much as we wanted to. Once we realised that though, the stress of those choices faded. (We'd still love to go travelling more, but now it will have to wait until the kids are a bit older.)
4) Increasing the number of choices we have leads to increased expectations that there should be a perfect choice. When I go out for a meal, not only should what I feel like be on the menu, but it should be perfectly prepared. Enter: the DIY menu. I'll have the XYZ burger, but with the sauce & onions on the side, with extra ABC and NO GHERKINS! (or whatever....) If we can't get the perfect choice, then everything else feels second best. And who honestly wants second best?
5) Increasing the number of choices we have leads to increased personal responsibility for our own happiness, and thus to increased depression. This one is quite simple. When there was only one choice, if you didn't like it, you could blame "them" - the manufacturers, the people in charge, the world. Now that there are lots of choices, ONE of them should match you. Thus, if you are unhappy with your choice, it's your own fault for not choosing correctly.
Barry summed up by saying: Some choice is better than no choice, but more choice is NOT better than some choice. There is clearly a tipping point, at which the 'some' becomes 'more'. When I travelled through southern Africa I was struck once again by how happy those with nothing (or very little) are. They have a joy that isn't affected by how much they have, or what they're wearing, or where they live. Their joy is a simple joy at being alive and having real community. It's a godly joy.
The paradox of choice is a problem for the affluent, no doubt about it, but it's about having access to too many things - whether they are experiences or goods. If you have the opportunity to go on holiday EVERY holiday period and you have the luxury of choice in your destination, then pretty soon you become disillusioned with all these fabulous places, and with going on holiday. If you only have the option of going on holiday to one or two places, or only once a year, then you truly appreciate what you have.
The paradox of choice says that having lots of choices is bad for one. The simple solution is to limit your own choices. Since the fishbowl we used to live in has been smashed, it is up to each of us to recreate our own fishbowl. When we go out for a meal, I always start limiting my own choices before I even get there. I ask myself one simple question - do I want a veggie, beef, prok, chicken or fish/ seafood meal? By limiting myself to only 6 choices, and by making that decision BEFORE I get into the restaurant, it makes my decisions about the meal a lot easier, because by choosing one option, I'm cutting out a whole bunch of other decisions that I might need to make. If I decide, for example, that I want a seafood meal, then I already know that I won't have a starter. That's because seafood is usually more expensive and I don't have a lot of cash to splash out on. I also know that if I'm not having a starter, I will definitely be having a pudding. (Well, actually, no, I always have pud, no matter what meal I choose...) But you get the idea.
Of course, we're so accustomed to having a wide range of choices that limiting oneself feels silly and antiquated. But it works. On occasions when I don't limit my meal choices, I seldom have a good dining experience. When I do, I usually have a great meal. Take a few weeks back - we went out to Constantia Nek Restaurant. Before we'd even arrived I knew I wanted the roast. Now I haven't been to this particular restaurant in well over a decade, probably more like 2, so I had no way of knowing what the quality of food there was. I still barely glanced at the menu. I wanted the roast. I ordered said roast. It arrived. It was GLORIOUS! That might be coincidence, except that I've had the same sort of dining experience far too many times for it to be just conincidence. I never really knew what it was. Now I do.
When I choose to live in the fishbowl, life is actually better.
Of course, the fishbowl is also a metaphor for Jesus. When I choose to live as a Christian, in relationship with Christ, limiting myself to following his guidelines for life, then life is actually better. I have fewer choices in life, and therefore my overall sense of joy is higher. When I choose not to limit myself in this way (the Christian jargon for this is that I dethrone Christ and put myself on the throne of my life), then life isn't quite so good.
So - what fishbowls do you construct for yourself? or what fishbowls SHOULD you construct for yourself? What limitations on choice should you impose on yourself, in order to increase your overall joy and happiness?
I recently came across a website called TEDtalks. It's a video hosting site for inspirational talks. This morning I watched a 20 minute talk by Barry Schwartz, on his latest book 'The paradox of choice: why less is more". Being the good student that I am, I took notes. Briefly, his arguments were that:
1) Increasing the number of choices we have increases our inability to make a choice, thus increasing paralysis. He quoted a study in which it was found that for every 10-fold increase in the number of medical plans they offered, companies saw a 2% drop in the uptake of ANY medical plan by their employees. I get this. When I'm faced with 10 different types of shampoo, it takes me HOURS to make a decision. Give me only 2 and I can tell you immediately which one I want. (This doesn't work with chocolate as I'll want all 10. THAT decision is easy.)
2) Increasing the number of choices we have decreases our satisfaction with the choice we ultimately make, because we feel there should be a choice that is perfect in every way (which there isn't). So true. Clothes shopping is like that for me. There are SO many different types of jeans now... firstly I have to get the right size (which is brand dependent), then I have to decide on a colour (blue, red, black, green, white, stonewashed, acid washed, etc, etc), then I have to decide on whether I want a hipster or full waisted pair, and then I have to decide what leg shape I want (boot-leg is my usual favourite, so that's fairly easy), and the type of fit I want (regular, slim, etc). NO WONDER it takes me ages to work through the various combinations and try on the resulting possible matches. And then, once you find the pair that fits best (note: NOT the perfect fit, because nothing fits me perfectly anymore), I then have to work up the guts to pay the ridiculous price attached.
3) There are opportunity costs involved in every choice. ie. every time you make a choice FOR something, you are also making a choice AGAINST something else. I learnt this lesson while in the UK. G and I were very jealous about his siblings' travel exploits, until we realised that we'd made different choices, and that neither set of choices was right or wrong. We discovered that we're creatures of habit: we like to have a fixed abode with our creature comforts; we like to have a regular place of employment; we like to have a relatively stable network of friends around us. We DON'T like constantly having to share our space (including our bathroom) with 5 others; we don't like having to work out which trains/ tubes/ buses we were going to use to get to work; we don't like having to phone up the agencies all the time to get work; we don't like being away from our friends. The cost of the travel opportunity is all those things we don't like. The cost of the non-travel opportunities are that we never travelled as much as we wanted to. Once we realised that though, the stress of those choices faded. (We'd still love to go travelling more, but now it will have to wait until the kids are a bit older.)
4) Increasing the number of choices we have leads to increased expectations that there should be a perfect choice. When I go out for a meal, not only should what I feel like be on the menu, but it should be perfectly prepared. Enter: the DIY menu. I'll have the XYZ burger, but with the sauce & onions on the side, with extra ABC and NO GHERKINS! (or whatever....) If we can't get the perfect choice, then everything else feels second best. And who honestly wants second best?
5) Increasing the number of choices we have leads to increased personal responsibility for our own happiness, and thus to increased depression. This one is quite simple. When there was only one choice, if you didn't like it, you could blame "them" - the manufacturers, the people in charge, the world. Now that there are lots of choices, ONE of them should match you. Thus, if you are unhappy with your choice, it's your own fault for not choosing correctly.
Barry summed up by saying: Some choice is better than no choice, but more choice is NOT better than some choice. There is clearly a tipping point, at which the 'some' becomes 'more'. When I travelled through southern Africa I was struck once again by how happy those with nothing (or very little) are. They have a joy that isn't affected by how much they have, or what they're wearing, or where they live. Their joy is a simple joy at being alive and having real community. It's a godly joy.
The paradox of choice is a problem for the affluent, no doubt about it, but it's about having access to too many things - whether they are experiences or goods. If you have the opportunity to go on holiday EVERY holiday period and you have the luxury of choice in your destination, then pretty soon you become disillusioned with all these fabulous places, and with going on holiday. If you only have the option of going on holiday to one or two places, or only once a year, then you truly appreciate what you have.
The paradox of choice says that having lots of choices is bad for one. The simple solution is to limit your own choices. Since the fishbowl we used to live in has been smashed, it is up to each of us to recreate our own fishbowl. When we go out for a meal, I always start limiting my own choices before I even get there. I ask myself one simple question - do I want a veggie, beef, prok, chicken or fish/ seafood meal? By limiting myself to only 6 choices, and by making that decision BEFORE I get into the restaurant, it makes my decisions about the meal a lot easier, because by choosing one option, I'm cutting out a whole bunch of other decisions that I might need to make. If I decide, for example, that I want a seafood meal, then I already know that I won't have a starter. That's because seafood is usually more expensive and I don't have a lot of cash to splash out on. I also know that if I'm not having a starter, I will definitely be having a pudding. (Well, actually, no, I always have pud, no matter what meal I choose...) But you get the idea.
Of course, we're so accustomed to having a wide range of choices that limiting oneself feels silly and antiquated. But it works. On occasions when I don't limit my meal choices, I seldom have a good dining experience. When I do, I usually have a great meal. Take a few weeks back - we went out to Constantia Nek Restaurant. Before we'd even arrived I knew I wanted the roast. Now I haven't been to this particular restaurant in well over a decade, probably more like 2, so I had no way of knowing what the quality of food there was. I still barely glanced at the menu. I wanted the roast. I ordered said roast. It arrived. It was GLORIOUS! That might be coincidence, except that I've had the same sort of dining experience far too many times for it to be just conincidence. I never really knew what it was. Now I do.
When I choose to live in the fishbowl, life is actually better.
Of course, the fishbowl is also a metaphor for Jesus. When I choose to live as a Christian, in relationship with Christ, limiting myself to following his guidelines for life, then life is actually better. I have fewer choices in life, and therefore my overall sense of joy is higher. When I choose not to limit myself in this way (the Christian jargon for this is that I dethrone Christ and put myself on the throne of my life), then life isn't quite so good.
So - what fishbowls do you construct for yourself? or what fishbowls SHOULD you construct for yourself? What limitations on choice should you impose on yourself, in order to increase your overall joy and happiness?
Friday, September 18, 2009
Never again will the entire world be under flood
It would seem that winter has decided to get in a few more days before it will relinquish its hold on the Cape. As the rain and the sun battle it out for dominance, we've had two days with the most incredible rainbows. I've been fortunate to be outdoors at the right moment, to be able to document them.
These ones were taken this morning at Rondebosch Common, around 8am. (Notice the double rainbow just visible in the top two.)
These ones were taken yesterday, at the Koeberg Interchange and on the N1 southbound, around 9am.
These ones were taken this morning at Rondebosch Common, around 8am. (Notice the double rainbow just visible in the top two.)
These ones were taken yesterday, at the Koeberg Interchange and on the N1 southbound, around 9am.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Who's that then?
Such a serious little face! And such gorgeous little Yoda ears. (I'm pretty impressed with this photo as it's a self-portrait with my phone camera. Not bad, eh, when you've only got a 2mm silvered patch on which to glimpse your reflection to help you figure out where you're actually pointing the camera at?)
He's discovered that hands taste much nicer than dummies. He seems to prefer sucking the skin along the side of his hand between his thumb and first finger to sticking his fingers in his mouth. The result is that he winds up trying to stuff his entire fist into his mouth while making sounds like water going down a partially blocked drain.
He's discovered that hands taste much nicer than dummies. He seems to prefer sucking the skin along the side of his hand between his thumb and first finger to sticking his fingers in his mouth. The result is that he winds up trying to stuff his entire fist into his mouth while making sounds like water going down a partially blocked drain.
You have GOT to be kidding me!
While listening to a news bulletin on 567 CapeTalk I was absolutely gobsmacked at one story. I'm still convinced I heard wrong.... Apparently, people who have TB are selling their infected spit to make money.
Who on earth would purchase someone else's spit? I mean, sharing germs and spit with your nearest and dearest is one thing, but this is in an entirely different ball park. I've contemplated a lot of wacky things in my lifetime, but buying stuff that comes out of a stranger's lungs AND THEN PUTTING THAT IN MY MOUTH is definitely not one of those.
Apparently, the buyers are hoping to be able to access grants and aids from the state as a result of infecting themselves. OK, I know that things are financially hectic for many people in the recession, but this goes well, well, well beyond scraping the bottom of the barrel!
As I said, I'm sure I heard wrong.
Who on earth would purchase someone else's spit? I mean, sharing germs and spit with your nearest and dearest is one thing, but this is in an entirely different ball park. I've contemplated a lot of wacky things in my lifetime, but buying stuff that comes out of a stranger's lungs AND THEN PUTTING THAT IN MY MOUTH is definitely not one of those.
Apparently, the buyers are hoping to be able to access grants and aids from the state as a result of infecting themselves. OK, I know that things are financially hectic for many people in the recession, but this goes well, well, well beyond scraping the bottom of the barrel!
As I said, I'm sure I heard wrong.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
My sweet child
Nate is a growing boy. In every sense of the word. He turned 3 months this week, and already the 3-6 month baby grows are just about too small for him! Proper clothes seem fine (pants may occasionally be a bit small around the hips over cloth nappies), but those baby grow things that have toes on the legs? Forget those! One of Priscilla's friends who works across the road asked whether we've got him on solids yet because he's growing awfully fast. Ahhh...? No. But it looks like we may have to start well before the usual 6 months starting time if we're going to keep up with his nutritional demands.
He's giving the most beautiful smiles now. And talking! Not as in actual words (he's not QUITE that advanced!) and not cooing, exactly, but more as in 'nga' type of sounds. Yup, the little man is definitely attempting to hold conversations with us. He almost sounds like he's trying to laugh at times. He LOVES conversations with you, and will grin and laugh and smile at you so much it's nigh on impossible to get on with anything else if he's awake - he's just too cute. (Nellie must have been this cute too, but I don't recall feeling quite this elated at these milestones. I guess losing Zoe makes me appreciate him all the more.)
When on his tummy, he's already pushing up on his arms. Granted, he's not extending his arms yet, but he's definitely lifting his chest off the ground.
When on his back, if he's gripped your hands, he can almost pull himself into a standing position. If you hold most of his weight up, he tries to stand - but that's just the innate reflex of something to push against, rather that being indicative of him actually trying to stand.
And he's started trying to turn over. Thus far, he manages to nearly get onto his side. He's got the gist of what to do - pull your legs up and then over to the side - but just can't hold the position long enough to fall over. I reckon a few more days and he'll get it. (How long until he's crawling, I wonder, and I need to baby-proof the house again?)
His colic is fast disappearing (THANK GOD!!!!!!!!) (could that be because he's now just on formula?? I gave up on breast milk a few days ago - too much stress to keep expressing since actual breastfeeding wasn't happening - him and me = NOT compatible in this regard). His reflux is under control (he's still got it, but with limited pain associated). Thus, he's started sleeping better (THANK GOD!!) which means he's also started feeding better! (as have we....) We've had a few nights of properly sleeping through from around 8pm till around 5am, as well as a few nights with only one wake up.
During the day he is also sleeping much better, which means that he's much more alert after his feed. He's also quite happy to lie on his back now (THANK GOD!!!!) and play with his toys (and when I say play, what I really mean is stare at them and bat/ kick rather inefficiently at them). He's particularly fascinated by a pink, green and yellow tortoise . It plays a few bars of music if you hit it, but he hasn't discovered that yet - he simply loves the shape and/or colour combination, apparently (so much for the penchant for black/ red/ white/ primary colours/ geometric patterns ideas!).
One of his favourite things right now is being tickled under the chin or having his nose tapped. He also thinks you're incredibly funny if you blow zerbits at him (he still gets a very unpleasant shock if you actually zerbit him - don't try that unless you want him to cry!) or pull some other funny face. Another is lying on his change mat with NO NAPPY. Hmm... that was ok with Nellie... but I'm nervous of the multi-directional pee thing with him. Come proper summer though, I'm sure we will be spending lots of time in the garden under the tree, and then he can be nappy free to his heart's content!
So, all round, life is very good with him. THANK GOD! AT LAST! I knew it would come, but I'm really pleased it has finally arrived.
Now if the rest of the family (and I include myself in this) could just get with the programme and
a) get better (Nellie & I have horrible coughs while G has some nondescript low grade infection), and
b) stay healthy,
we'd all be extremely happy - especially this part of 'we'!
He's giving the most beautiful smiles now. And talking! Not as in actual words (he's not QUITE that advanced!) and not cooing, exactly, but more as in 'nga' type of sounds. Yup, the little man is definitely attempting to hold conversations with us. He almost sounds like he's trying to laugh at times. He LOVES conversations with you, and will grin and laugh and smile at you so much it's nigh on impossible to get on with anything else if he's awake - he's just too cute. (Nellie must have been this cute too, but I don't recall feeling quite this elated at these milestones. I guess losing Zoe makes me appreciate him all the more.)
When on his tummy, he's already pushing up on his arms. Granted, he's not extending his arms yet, but he's definitely lifting his chest off the ground.
When on his back, if he's gripped your hands, he can almost pull himself into a standing position. If you hold most of his weight up, he tries to stand - but that's just the innate reflex of something to push against, rather that being indicative of him actually trying to stand.
And he's started trying to turn over. Thus far, he manages to nearly get onto his side. He's got the gist of what to do - pull your legs up and then over to the side - but just can't hold the position long enough to fall over. I reckon a few more days and he'll get it. (How long until he's crawling, I wonder, and I need to baby-proof the house again?)
His colic is fast disappearing (THANK GOD!!!!!!!!) (could that be because he's now just on formula?? I gave up on breast milk a few days ago - too much stress to keep expressing since actual breastfeeding wasn't happening - him and me = NOT compatible in this regard). His reflux is under control (he's still got it, but with limited pain associated). Thus, he's started sleeping better (THANK GOD!!) which means he's also started feeding better! (as have we....) We've had a few nights of properly sleeping through from around 8pm till around 5am, as well as a few nights with only one wake up.
During the day he is also sleeping much better, which means that he's much more alert after his feed. He's also quite happy to lie on his back now (THANK GOD!!!!) and play with his toys (and when I say play, what I really mean is stare at them and bat/ kick rather inefficiently at them). He's particularly fascinated by a pink, green and yellow tortoise . It plays a few bars of music if you hit it, but he hasn't discovered that yet - he simply loves the shape and/or colour combination, apparently (so much for the penchant for black/ red/ white/ primary colours/ geometric patterns ideas!).
One of his favourite things right now is being tickled under the chin or having his nose tapped. He also thinks you're incredibly funny if you blow zerbits at him (he still gets a very unpleasant shock if you actually zerbit him - don't try that unless you want him to cry!) or pull some other funny face. Another is lying on his change mat with NO NAPPY. Hmm... that was ok with Nellie... but I'm nervous of the multi-directional pee thing with him. Come proper summer though, I'm sure we will be spending lots of time in the garden under the tree, and then he can be nappy free to his heart's content!
So, all round, life is very good with him. THANK GOD! AT LAST! I knew it would come, but I'm really pleased it has finally arrived.
Now if the rest of the family (and I include myself in this) could just get with the programme and
a) get better (Nellie & I have horrible coughs while G has some nondescript low grade infection), and
b) stay healthy,
we'd all be extremely happy - especially this part of 'we'!
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