Rankish Teapants

Guess what?

I am eating lunch alone.

Before you get all “aww” on me, I have to confess something. I am THRILLED about this. So what if it is barely 11.15am! So what if I didn’t have breakfast this morning because I was too busy showering, making Noah’s breakfast, changing him, dressing him, taking him to the doctor and going to the grocery store?! It matters not, because I am eating lunch alone.

It is so hard to time meals around Noah. Even when I have my lunch ready to eat whilst he has his, I always feel guilty as he pauses mid chew to look at what I have and then he uses those big brown eyes and just gives me a look like “don’t you love me enough to let me have that for lunch too?”. Before long you realise that whatever you’d made for lunch, you’ve made the baby friendly version .. just in case. Although there is no such thing as just in case when it comes to Noah. Whatever you have .. he wants. Even if he’s just had tons to eat of his own food.

Just another thing he’s inherited from me: no matter what you’ve got to eat, the other person’s always looks and tastes better (except for when my Momma, Randy, Adam, Noah and I went to Boxwood.. where I just kept winning and winning).

So right now, I am enjoying listening to the echoes of crouton crunches bounce around inside my head as I sit in silence. No tv, no toy suggesting “Let’s sing a song” or saying “Hello Baby”. Just me, my salad and my Capri-Sun.

Life is good.

Yesterday, for the first time in my life, someone other than me (and I’m only assuming that I’ve done the following, though I have no recollection of this…) threw up in my hair. Oh, and on my face, on my chest, down my stomach and even got it on my back.

Now, I should probably explain that sometimes when Noah simply drools on me I get grossed out. I know that it is natural and that he’s a baby and they all do it. However, it matters not. It grosses me out.

So when I saw the Vanilla Volcano eruption begin, I panicked for a millisecond. For a few brief moments I contemplated whipping him over the side of the bed .. similar to how my mother reacted when on Space Mountain at Disney World I could feel the contents of my stomach reaching up into my throat. Only I couldn’t. I just held him up above me so that he didn’t lie on his back and choke.

I know that most babies have already done this by his age. That we’ve been so lucky to escape all illness up until now. But holy crap. It is one of the scariest things I’ve ever been a party to. He seemed so vulnerable though nowhere near as upset by it all as Lee and I were.

And though he became super cuddly during his brief days of his tummy issues and I am not sure that I’ve ever felt love for someone as strong as I did when he only wanted to fall asleep on me, I can honestly say that I hope no one ever throws up in my hair again.

Oh, and I’ll take the drool any day.

Though perhaps not so much on the sofa. If only because it is not a “wipe clean” surface and it appears to have an ingredient that prevents us from masking the Drool Dots.

This month SUCKED.

Through no fault of your own, this month ranks right up there with Month 2 when we had to deal with a healing circumcision, though this time it was me who cried all of the time; whether due to the searing pain I’d feel in my back when I’d sneeze, or because I realised that that for the first time in your life I’d gone longer than 24 hours without taking your photo or that I was in fact less mobile than you!

Oh, I also cried (a lot) when you were packed up and sent off to a “childminder” (I have no idea what they are called in Canada!). I always swore that I’d never leave you with a stranger and my heart broke into a million jagged pieces when I realised that it had to be done. Do you know how much pain I had to be in to give a complete stranger control over you and your day? To not know whether the ruffles on your diaper were pulled out properly (even though I’d included that instruction on the double sided Info Sheet that I provided), to not know whether you had to cry yourself to sleep or even worse, whether the face that you had to look at when you were having your afternoon bottle was an ugly one?!

Luckily, you survived the two days that you were there. In fact, you survived the two weeks where I was not the same Mommy that you’d come to know. You adapted whether you spent the day at home with your Daddy/Nanny/Granddad downstairs and me upstairs in bed, whether you spent the day in Dunstable (not many people adapt to that well) or whether you woke up in Stratford.

One thing you abandoned happily, was your skill of settling yourself when you were put into your crib to nap or sleep. Nope, you didn’t so much as bat an eyelash when your daytime naps happened in bed next to me. In fact, you decided that this way was definitely the way to go and at night, your poor Daddy would have to stay with you until you settled, but you’d still wwake up wanting Mommy’s bed and we’d give in because your Daddy was exhausted, you were confused by the changes and I was stuck in bed and of no help at all.

And then you started teething again.

How could we possibly force you to sleep alone in your state of confusion and pain? We couldn’t … and now… we are paying a HUGE price. Come sleep time, you’ve become a monster; refusing to sleep, refusing to lie down and letting the neighbouring counties know that you do not want to sleep alone.

I told you at the start that this month sucked.

Then again, despite my medical setbacks, your teething pains and everyone’s complete routine upheaval … you’ve thrived physically! You’ve remained steady on your 99.6 percentileat 25lb 8oz and have continued your mobility journey outward and upwards! You pull up on anything and everything and anyone and when you’re not paying attention, you can stand alone for over 5 seconds. Though your progress there is often thwarted by your tendency to be distracted by the ties on your pants which you seem to be unable to resist bending over to try and stick in your mouth … resulting in a Head meets Floor situation.

So despite it all, you’ve managed to thrive .. .and I’ve missed out on a lot of this and haven’t been able to document it all with my trusty digital camera. So I hope that Month 9 is so good that you forget Month 8 and one day, I will too. Until then, I will have to get your Daddy to tutor me in using Photoshop so I can create some good memories of those wasted weeks. Mind you, due to teething, you spent a lot of that time doing your Frogger impersonation, so perhaps it is best that there are few photos.

But rest assured, Frogger was captured for posterity so there still remains the opportunity to bring the photos out to show future girlfriends or to put in the paper when you turn 18!

Happy Eight Months, GrumpyPumps.
Mommy Loves You!

I’m late, I’m late, I’m late! Sorry!! I keep telling myself that I am going to keep a draft of these entries so that I can add to it as the month goes along and then I’ll be ready on the day, but it hasn’t worked out that way. Part of the reason is my procrastination, but an even bigger reason … is that you’ve been keeping on my toes this past month. I am not sure how one not so little baby boy can pack in so much energy and development into that body!!

I mean, let’s face it, with the amount of food you eat, you’d think there’d be no room for anything else. Though your teeth made their arrival this month (not all of them, only the bottom front two) so you can now make the chunks of food you swallow whole a little smaller. This may also help your Daddy’s worry about you choking. Me, I know that you’d never waste a good piece of food!!

So we started off the month in pain from the teeth and then I got a cold and then we thought you were getting a cold, but you’ve managed to keep it to a slightly runny nose and some SERIOUS snoring. So serious in fact, that if I walked into a pitch black room full of sleeping babies and their daddies, I wouldn’t need a light because you sound like identical twins. Sometimes when you come into our bed in the wee hours of the morning I feel like I am in a foghorn factory. Luckily, that similarity is only apparently when you’re not well.

Another similarity to your Daddy has also come to light. You LOVE computers. Laptops, desktops, Mac or not… you love love love to bang away at the keyboard.

We even went so far as to buy you a 3years+ laptop that is orange and yellow and talks to you, but other than swinging it around by the mouse, you are not that bothered. When it was presented to you, you looked at us as if to say “who are you two fooling?! This is for babies!”. Luckily your Daddy has in the area of 4,534,204 computers and found an old laptop for you to drool over and push around the living room.

That’s right, you’ve become mobile this month too! This means that not only are you moving around the room, but anything that is not glued down or too heavy to push is also being relocated by your helpful hands. On top of the crawling, you’ve managed to learn to pull yourself up to standing. Noah, I have to admit, I was not prepared for this. We bought stair gates just in case, but have not put them up…. this is because we’re too busy trying to move breakables out of your reach and figure out a way to make you less interested in wiping drool covered fingers all over Daddy’s beloved plasma screen.

You’ve fallen and bumped your head more times this month than in all of your previous months. I know that this comes with the territory and I should be grateful that you’ve yet to crawl off of the bed (though you have given some serious time and dedication to that) or fallen down the stairs or actually broken the skin, but it still scares me every time. Sometimes you cry, sometimes you wail, sometimes you just smile, but every time I run to you and pick you up to give you hugs and kisses. Because not only are you clumsier this month, but you are also even more cuddly.

You randomly crawl over to us and snuggle into our legs before crawling off again, or roll back and forth looking for cuddles when you’re in our bed. And you are even starting to give super wet sloppy kisses. It’s GREAT!

Along with the extra cuddles, you’ve also become super smiley. You don’t give them out to everyone, but once you decide a person is smile worth, you give them all you’ve got! And you love when people smile at you .. .which I’ll be honest, is not hard to do.

It seems that this month we’ve both come a long way. I seem to be finding more patience and much more enjoyment in this motherhood thing and you just keep hitting milestones that you’re not expected to hit for a while. It’s super exciting and also makes me sad because I know that it is all going to start flying by and I’d love you to stay this age forever.

Though if you are going to insist on growing up, let’s work on the sleep thing. It is awesome that you’ll happily go into your crib at bedtime, but the whole staying asleep thing, you’re kinda sucking at that. And lately it is not even a case of popping the soother back in, you full on wake up and crawl to the bars awaiting the arrival of the emergency services.

Often you’re just wanting to be rolled over because that would just take up too much energy for you to do yourself, so you pull yourself up on the bars and call out for assistance. I’m just glad that you don’t seem to have the energy to pull to proper standing in the crib yet. I have visions of being asleep in my bed, knowing that you’re supposed to be asleep in yours and yet I’m rudely awaken by a tiny hand honking my nose, which seems to be your new “thing”.

Mind you, I’ll take the honking any day over your preferred method of waking your Daddy up (which involves tiny fingers tightly gripping eyeballs), and I’d like to put in a request for a little less of the hair “stretching”. It’s not elastic, dude. It’s not going to spring back when you let go. At least not when you actually remove it from my head first. It is GREAT that you love my hair when it is all loose and curly, but if you could just pat it (even smack my head if you’d like) rather than pretend that your hand is a rake and my head is an autumn lawn under a maple tree I’d really be appreciative. I guess the good thing is that you’ve discovered that although much shorter than mine, Daddy’s hair is scrunchable too!

I’ve got to say, all in all, you and me, we’ve had the best month yet. We both have to thank Daddy because he comes equipped with more patience than you and I have put together, and he seems to have enough energy for 3 people … or at least enough to make up for the energy I’ve never gotten back since carrying you around in my belly. If only he could bottle some of the Excess Patience for after swimming when you’re exhausted and you think that us getting dry and changed is some sort of violent crime and scream and cry for all of the other swimmers to hear. Whomever it was that invented chairs that strap wriggly babies to walls is/was a genius.

If only they’d thought about it holding a baby that weighed as much as you, since not long after I took that photo, you tried to escape, I tried to unbuckle you, the seat bottom went down and I caught you mid air.

You cried, we cuddled, you pulled my wet hair and then you stayed as straight as a pin on the thin bench whilst I got you ready and once I picked you up, you held on to me like you never wanted to let go.

That was one of the scariest moments of our life together, but it was like you realised in that moment that if I was there, then you’d be alright.

I hope that realisation stays with you for all of our life together. Even when you’re all grown up and moved on out and think that I’m so not cool to spend your spare time with, I will be doing whatever I can to make sure that you feel safe and that if you do falter in anything, I will do my best to catch you. Sometimes I may not be quick enough to break your fall, but I will always be there to pick you back up, give you cuddles and let you pull my hair. Gently.

Happy Seven Months, Grumpy Pumps.
Mommy Loves You!

Despite the cool, rainy weather, we headed off to Woburn today to make sure that the poor oysters that were plucked from the sea were given a nice home in our bellies.

Last year I had to hear about the Oyster Festival from other people because I had Noah on Board (though at that time he was not Noah, in fact he could have been a she for all we knew…anyway…) and although I broke a lot of the Do Not Eat Whilst Pregnant rules, I dutifully avoided the oyster.

This year, not so much.

We bundled a teething and grumpy Noah into the car (note the enthusiastic look upon his face) and made our way to Woburn.

Once we got there, we took a quick look at what was on offer and made our way to the oyster bar.

The first order was a dozen oysters and a half pint of something they called Oyster Stout. I didn’t ask if oysters featured in the drink because some things are better left unknown. That, and I wasn’t drinking it.

We wolfed them down so quickly, that by the time I remembered the camera, Lee only had two remaining…

The two lonely oysters soon joined their friends in Lee’s tummy…

By this point Noah was slightly degrumping. And by slightly, I mean that he saw that there was food and forgot to be a complete grump.. until he realised that he wasn’t allowed to suck back any creatures from the sea. Unlike the little girl (possibly 5 years old..maybe 4) who was just devouring her cup of baby octopus like it was cotton candy. I am still in awe of her, and the two kids with her that tried it based solely on how much she loved it. I am sad that I didn’t get a photo of that, but I did get a photo of some children with their mother tucking into shrimp…complete with heads..

Those shrimp/prawns came from the stall next to the oyster stand which sold our second purchase of the day, Garlic Mussels!

Mmm. Mmm. Mmm. That is the only way I can sum up the mussels that were put before me in their temporary styrofoam home accompanied by a chunk of french bread.

While I tucked in, Noah decided to ungrump as he too got to eat for the first time since we arrived there. No, not mussells… the bread.

Lee was feeling a little left out of the action and after much deliberation (or about 30 seconds of Should I? Okay, how many?) he returned to the oyster bar. After all, that’s what we were there for right?

Once again there were a dozen oysters before us and another half pint of the Oyster Stout. This time I had a sip due to over Tabascoing of one of my slippery friends, but I wasn’t too worried about the ingredients at that time, just that there was some relief to my stinging taste buds.

Lee was the warrior this time. I looked down at my six and noticed this creamy stuff in one of the shells. Lee took them up to Mr. Oyster Man and asked what in the world was going on. That is when he was given a lesson on the make-up of an oyster and given the choice to swap or swallow. He came back to me and presented the options… he added that if I didn’t want it, he’d have it. So I swapped sixes.

Apparently, I won.

He described it as creamier than usual and that I probably wouldn’t have like it, though it was not that bad. Fast forward a few hours and apparently the quarter of a coconut rum cake he later ate couldn’t kill the taste that kept coming back.

As I said, I won.

On the way in we had noticed that there was an empty stall that had a sign for Caribbean food. They were advertising patties, roti, “Trinidad” chicken, rice and peas, etc. It wasn’t open yet, but I kept watching it and waiting as the people were obviously running on West Indian Time.

I saw a man going from the stall to a van and I couldn’t tell if he was opening up or packing up. Closer inspection showed that he was in fact removing the stuff from the stand. No patties or roti for us. Boo!!!

It was alright though because it was Pimms O’Clock.

Okay, so no Pimms was had by any of us three. Instead we moved along to the parking lot behind The Inn at Woburn (where we went for Lee’s birthday last year and fell in love with the restaurant, though haven’t been able to brave it avec le bébé) where they had a couple food stands, some kiddie rides and a craft fair. At the craft fair I was about to get Lee to aid my obsession with buying ridiculous things when I decided that Noah needed a hooded sweater that was knit from 100% alpaca wool. Luckily, Lee had found a photographer who specialised in casual family shots instead. Not what you think you’ll find at an Oyster festival, but hey, we were looking to have the photos done anyway!

The craft fair was under a tent in which there was very little light. Noah, though not afraid of total darkness, seems to fear the semi-dark and was not happy in there. We exited and headed off toward the Pimms tent again as they were setting up the steel band.

We decided to stop and have a listen, much to the delight of Noah who once again had the chance to break free from the restraints of his stroller.

The steel band started up whilst I enjoyed a nose around at the people attending the Oyster Festival and the surroundings. If we had moved to Woburn instead of Milton Keynes, I am not so sure that we’d be so eager to relocate already. It is “proper” England. By that I mean that it has buildings older than my mother (hey, Milton Keynes is only two years older than my aunt, Cathy) and people were wearing wellies because they knew there was going to be hay in the Pimms tent. Woburn is great.

The looking around didn’t last long as Mr. My Gums Hurt People And I Don’t Want To Be Around Smiling People Right Now got progressively grumpier…

Aside from when Lee’s colleague walked past with his wife and son and Noah decided that he loved the wife and her glasses. All of a sudden he wanted to smile. But they were just arriving and didn’t chat long which meant we got The Grump back.

So we packed it in and strolled back to the car. Even with The Grump, we had a very good family day out; the rain pretty much stayed away once we arrived in Woburn so there was no trying to work the rain cover on the stroller or negotiating small sidewalks with one hundred umbrellas, Lee and I got our much missed oysters and Noah got fresh air and to see his first person on stilts (not that he gave a shit at all about him).

And now, if these teeth would just come through, we’d have three much happier people in the house. I can’t wait to see how much Noah and the Aching Gums are going to love waiting around in a courthouse for me to testify tomorrow.

There have been many mornings, and afternoons, evenings and nights for that matter, when I didn’t think that we’d reach the half year mark. Actually, I knew you’d make it, but I thought that I’d probably be spending it in a nice, tight white coat with lots of big buckles babbling to myself about needing to watch Hollyoaks or Judge Judy. But, we’ve made it!! You in one piece and me still hanging on to my last threads of sanity!

Month 6 was a mammoth month for you. Our journey into the World of Solids has continued and you have been a SUPERSTAR. Such a superstar that when I took you for your 6 month weigh-in, I nearly fell over when the lady wrote down 23lbs 6oz. You are 2lbs lighter than your nearly 2.5 year old cousin Luke!!

By the time of your Half Birthday Party, you were ready for your first Roast Chicken Dinner* (*adapted for the palate of a little dude) and a taste of Jell-O Pudding. You only got a little of that because I have become a bit neurotic over you having things with lots of sugar. I even threw out your Reduced Sugar Rusks because I thought they were too sweet. Yet, I let your Daddy give you Rum and Raisin gelato. One day you’ll realise that sense and I … we don’t often get along. But my not-so-normalness is also what makes me a fun Mommy!

This month I had to put Fun Mommy aside and tackle your sleeping issues. That was not fun. You’d developed this intense hatred for all things sleep related …at least when you knew it wasn’t a nap. You’d scream and go rigid or wave your fists about like a raving lunatic, but lots of patience … on the parts of family members and friends… got us through and now you’re a master sleeper. In fact, you became SO good at going to sleep, that our adventures in London with Kadie, Zed and Adam went a lot better than I’d anticipated! We were all so proud of you, as were the fellow diners at such places as Pizza Express and Boxwood…

On top of mastering eating and sleeping, you also appear to have discovered a belief that you are funny. You are, of course …being my child, right. However you often, of course …being my child, think you are a lot funnier than you are which makes it all the funnier. You won’t blow raspberries and rarely stick out your tongue, but always choose the best places for The Tongue to come out .. like the showers at the pool or Costco.

When you do things that you find funny, there is always this grin on your face like you are emoting “hey guys, isn’t this/aren’t I the funniest thing you’ve ever seen?”. Luckily, because I am finally starting to get into this motherhood thing, I agree that you are and encourage The Sillies. I do realise that I am only going to pay later and will undoubtedly start looking for the hospital with the nicest padding on the walls shortly.

That has actually been the best part of this month. I’ve started to really enjoy this journey. Not enough to make me think a brother or sister would be a good idea right now or later, but I am liking watching the world through your eyes and getting to know you now that I am not so scared of you. And you seem not to be too scared of me either which really helps. There are some days when you raise those perfectly shaped brows of yours and look at me with an expression that can only mean “YOU’re not seriously in charge of ME are you?”, but that look is quickly followed by a sigh of relief when you realise that YES! I am the one in charge of you! Hooray!

I think my not-by-the-book approach has helped out a lot this month as we hit the road …or the train tracks for the bright lights of London. Hotel Life is my dream and you quickly adapted. So long as there was food on hand when you were hungry and a blanket nearby when you were sleepy. You became a people watching expert and for those five days I swear you thought you were 5 years old. And at times, I think we all thought you were too.

But there were also moments when I realised that you are still just a tiny little dude who is only 6 months old. You’ve done so much in the past 6 months that sometimes we lose sight of this fact. Sometimes we start to expect more of you because you seem bigger and stronger and older. I swore I would never put expectations on you, but you’ve already been through so much more than I’d thought, that we just tend to think that you’re at least 1. I’m so grateful for the days where you just want cuddles, because those are the days that remind me. Those are the days that I know I am going to wish I took more advantage of when you’re 12 and think I’m an embarrassment. And when I look back and watch the tiny baby screaming as Kadie is prepping him for his first video’d bath, I break down and cry and hate all of the memories I didn’t get to make because my brain wouldn’t let me. But now it will, so watch out, NoHa, the cuddles are coming!!

So Happy Half Year to you, Noah Alexander James! As hard as the past 6 months have been, you have been so worth every grey hair, laugh, nervous breakdown, smile, stomachache, headache, tear and tiny smack in the face that you give when you roll over and try and grab my pillow. I am looking so forward to the next six… and all of the half and full birthdays to follow (yours and mine)!!

Happy Six Months, Grumpy Pumps.
Mommy Loves You!

When I got back from London I searched and searched through my suitcase and Noah’s for the only item I’d packed that was almost as important as packing my firstborn (and only) son: my tweezers.

They are not just any tweezers. These tweezers have been with me for 10 years. They have moved from apartment to apartment to apartment to condo to England and have travelled with me all over the world. Every time I go somewhere I make sure they are there upon arrival and that they are there when I return.

These tweezers even came to the hospital with me when I gave birth because there was no way I was going to leave them at home and risk Lee misplacing them and causing my world to spin off course (more than it was about to anyway).

So, back to where I started this post ….

When we returned from London I went to find my beloved tweezers. I looked EVERYWHERE. In my suitcase, in Noah’s suitcase, in the diaper bag (not sure why they’d be there, but this is me and I’ve been known to do things that are not quite normal). They were nowhere to be found. My heart dropped into my stomach, my eyes filled with tears. I’d remembered them sitting on the glass countertop in the bathroom at the hotel. I started to come up with plausible situations for their disappearance: Did housekeeping realise the find that sat there before them!? Did I knock them down the sink when I had removed the plug to get rid of the mountain of dish soap bubbles I’d created when cleaning Noah’s bottles?!

At the end of the day, it didn’t matter. They were gone. I was going to have to find a replacement. But how do you replace THE perfect pair of tweezers?! I’d bought a similar kit at The Body Shop (where my beloved pair came from) before in hopes of having TWO pairs. I should have known that you can only have one amazing pair per person. Per household even. I didn’t know what to do. I was lost. I felt like the shell of a person. The shell of a person whose eyebrows were taking on a life all their own. That was it. Poor Noah was going to have a circus freak show entry for a mother. The Lady Whose Eyebrows Ate Her Face. At least we’d be able to make a few dollars (or pounds) to keep our Stay At Home Mom thing going.

An entire week has passed since the day my universe what thrown off balance (mostly due to the uneven growth) and as I went to look in my “bling” bag for a pair of earrings before Noah and I headed off on our errands, I was poked by something. I took a closer look inside to see my beloved tweezers all wrapped up in a necklace.

We are back together again. This time, for good.

I’m back at home after 5 days in London with my Mom, Randy, my 8 year old cousin Noah and for some of the days, Lee. In those 5 days we packed in sightseeing, eating, walking, failed attempts at going on the London Eye, serious arcade game playing, shopping and loving the life that comes with going out of the door with your bed unmade and coming home to it being all neat and tidy.

During those five days, I also celebrated the anniversary of my Mom’s life and the anniversary of my Daddy’s death. It doesn’t matter where in the world I would have spent those days because the roller coaster of emotion wouldn’t have changed.

Two years on and the pain still hurts like it was only two hours ago. I am still completely heartbroken, although Noah has worked hard at fixing it. We were in the Maple Leaf pub in Covent Garden watching the Olympic 100m final when I broke into tears. Everyone was having a good time and witnessing Usain Bolt smash the record, but the person who would have loved it most didn’t get to see it. So I cried.

I looked around and saw how much Noah was loving the interaction and attention from my Mom and Randy and it made me so happy to see how much he is loved, but at the same time it made me so sad to know that my Daddy will never get to hold him, to squeeze his fat …not chubby, fat… thighs, see the look of wonder or awe or excitement (all which can occur within 3 seconds of each other) on his face. They would have loved each other. There is no doubt in my mind.

It was a hard day, the anniversary, because of the state of my heart, and the healing still left to do, but it was a lot easier than last year, if only because I had no choice but to be completely occupied by a near 6 month old, his Kadie and Zed and his cousin Adam.

Though it was still a sad day, because aside from one text I received, no one mentioned him; no one asked if I was okay, I had no way of talking to my brothers to see if they were okay. And then it dawned on me that everyone else may have moved on, and I can’t.

Right now I am watching Noah roll all over my bed, playing some sort of game of tag with a blanket and I am so thrilled that he is as happy as he is, but I still believe that he would be even happier if he could have only had one day with my Daddy.

I know that I should be grateful that he still has his Nan and Granddad, and his Kadie and Zed who all love him so much, and I am. I know what a lucky little boy he is to be loved as much as he is by everyone in his family, but that doesn’t make it easier.

So, I did have a great time seeing everyone and loved that I got to celebrate my Momma’s birthday with her for the 4th year in a row (this time on the actual day and in England!), it is just a shame that a day of great celebration is so closely followed by the day I dread most.

At least she had a memorable day. Not many birthdays are spent riding an open top bus tour whilst feeding your grandson a map, watching a drunken fight in the middle of the street, seeing a drunken man in a child’s floatie try and break into a taxi, getting denied a ride on the London Eye and then watching your 8 year old nephew be terrorized by a “stinkin’ mime”. It may not have been the party for 90 of your friends in a nightclub that Madonna had on the same day, but at least she knows that everyone she spent her birthday with loves her and wasn’t there for the free booze.

And the Brits have the nerve to say that the Americans and Canadians can’t spell:

It was the best of months… it was the worst of months…

Overall, I think we can say that Month 5 was our most successful to date. Though it started out and ended on very sour notes. Or rather the notes of your screams when you realise the person you want to put you to bed, isn’t the one doing it.

You started the month being babysat by your Nan and Granddad, and what looked like it was going to be a smooth night apparently went to pot 20 minutes after we’d left the house. You exercised your lungs, determination and charm as you let them know you were not taking this babysitting lying down, however you are too cute to get mad at so don’t give up on me just yet.

All I can say is that they are very patient people.

Perhaps in line with your mood and my parenting skills, the weather also fluctuated greatly this month. We started off with lovely sunshine and took advantage of it by going to London where you were absolutely amazing beyond my wildest dreams. Other than that little bit in the restaurant where you wanted to sleep, but I had to be holding you so my lunch went stone cold, and as soon as your daddy was done his and was going to take over you fell asleep.

This also month also marked the milestone of If It Can Fit In My Mouth And Even If It Can’t Really .. It’s Going In My Mouth.

Toys, clothes, electronics, books, body parts and even plastic bags if you can manage to grab one. Mostly, you love FOOD going in your mouth. So much so that we’ve taken to having to trick you when it is meal time. The food portion of the meal has to stay out of the room that you are having your bottle in until it is done because you squirm and wriggle in an effort to look over our arms, shoulders, the sofa, the highchair, etc. in order to find the food that awaits you at the end.

That being said, you are an AMAZING eater so far. Okay, so you went off of avocado as soon as you went on it, but I haven’t given up there!! You seem more into your “stodge” (don’t know the spelling as it is a word I’ve only learnt since moving over here) like sweet potato and squash or peas, potatoes and carrots mixed. And of course mango. Mango and banana. You could alternate those two for every meal if I’d allow it!

It’s good that you’re eating though because you need the energy as we’ve got our Gymboree membership now and the half hour constant play wears you out. It’s too bad they don’t have that class nightly at about 6pm, so we could avoid the pre-sleep struggle.

That is one this that I am struggling to understand. You hate going to bed at night. Hate hate hate it. Even when you’re exhausted you don’t want to go. Yet you wake up in the morning all Mr. Happy, have your bottle and a quick play with daddy and then you cuddle up to me and fall back asleep… for two hours. Those two hours would be SO much better if you got them at night. Trust me, I know what I am talking about because I need those two hours too!

Though we cannot really complain. Yes, you still wake in the night, though not for feeds or to be changed, but because you’ve dropped your soother. We’re working on this though. At least now you will roll yourself back over if you end up on your back, so it has cut down your waking incidents. And as frustrated as we are that you’ve become a true sleep burglar, it is hard to be upset when we walk into your room to find you on your back smiling like a complete maniac back up at us.

The smiles are not just part of your waking routine either. You seem to find the world a funnier place these days and you love to flirt with everyone when we’re out of the house. Inside the house you blow hot and cold. You can start to cry and it is a laugh within seconds or you will be smiling and talking and then just cry. I’ve not worked that part out yet. I’m not even close, but so long as there are smiles it can’t be all that bad right?

Along with the increase in smiles, you laugh… a lot. You even laugh at yourself. I wish I knew what you were saying, but I know that you find yourself funny and you actually are funny when you do something and then look at us with that Aren’t I The Funniest Person? expression on your face! Yes, you are the funniest… most of the time. Definitely funnier than your daddy. Not so sure if you’re funnier than me. That may seem mean, but I’m still struggling with losing the Boss position within the household, so cut me some slack.

This month also marked a full month without a visit to the doctor, though you have now been to the dentist and you were a superstar. I swear, if you acted at home as you do in public, I’d be putting you into The Best Baby Of The Year competition. Well wait, most of the time when you are in public. Though I guess your nan and granddad’s house and Luca’s house aren’t really public.

That’s right… as you started the month exercising your lungs, you ended it that way. Though to be fair, I didn’t witness most of it at your grandparents’ as it was when I’d gone out with the girls. So I’ll let you off and take the blame for that one. Plus, you were pretty happy the rest of the time!!

I cannot really complain about this month. It is hard when you hear about every other baby sleeping through the night and seeming to be perfect little angels, but you never really know what happens behind closed doors and although I do still doubt my possession of a maternal instinct and my ability to raise you the best way and right way, you seem to be doing alright. And you seem to love me still, even though I make you go to sleep at night, I take you shopping, I won’t share all of my food with you, I ..on the very rare occasion… go out and leave you with other family members and all of the other horrible things I do.

I’m still working on being a better mommy and learning to enjoy all parts of it, even the difficult ones, and I have to thank you for doing the little things which make it easier. At the end of this month you’ve started to lay your head on my shoulder out of the blue and just sit there for a few moments before you want to go off and bounce all over the place again.

If that alone was the only thing you’d started to do this month, it would have made all of the tears, nights of broken sleep, confusion and frustration over lack of ability to communicate between baby and parent, and the endless times you pee on us… all worth it.

You’re starting to break me, Noha. It’s the scariest feeling I’ve ever felt, but I look forward to even more.

Happy Five Months, Grumpy Pumps.
Mommy Love You!