Today is the occasion of the anniversary of Bernard’s birth, a whole four months ago. My, time flies when you’re in a whirl of new baby. As usual, I am feeling less than articulate, so please don’t expect too much from this post. I just wanted to make a record of how he is now.
My previously mentioned friend Alice is in the fortunate position that she loves All Babies. We are constantly surrounded by babies, and there is much opportunity for holding and admiring other people’s offspring. I do not love All Babies; I only love My Baby. Frankly, I’m not that interested in other people’s. I know this is a bad thing to admit to.
Don’t get me wrong, I can see that some other babies are quite sweet and interesting and so on, just that I don’t particularly want to hold them, and I don’t feel as much at ease chattering to them or trying to comfort them, when their mothers hand them over for a moment in order to attend to some personal requirement such as fastening their bra-cup or taking a swig of cold tea. I only really want to talk to Bernard.
Talking to Bernard is very rewarding. More so than talking to other babies, because he knows me, and I get special smiles. He now has a stock of different laughs: the dirty giggle, which is heard when you tickle him; the screech, which he reserves for Pete, when he talks to Bernard like a pirate; the squeal of delight, which can be elicited by pretending to throw him in the air; and the contented little chuckle, which he does in his sleep.
Along with goo, he can also say boo and ay. None of these words have any meaning; they are just sounds. He has been trying to blow a raspberry for several days, but can’t quite figure it out. He purses his lips and blows, but it doesn’t rasp, it comes out like a hum. It’s very funny.
After his bath, we put him down on a towel and he tries to roll over, front to back. He kicks one leg hard, and twists his body, but all that happens is that he pivots round a bit. He also pivots in his cot at night. The bedside co-sleeper is getting to be too small for him, but I’m reluctant to move him into the big cot in his nursery. I am used to the sound of his snoring by now.
He feeds well. He is quite the porker, putting on over half a pound a week in the last few weeks. 4-8oz is the norm. I have to see a chiropractor. Last week we reached the date that I had set for giving up breastfeeding. We reached it and passed it and still haven’t given up. I am getting to rather like it.