Age = 10 weeks

A Different Bug

Most creepy-crawlies don’t bother me much. I’d obviously prefer not to be bitten or stung or have an insect nest in my body, but I’m pretty capable of dealing with any bugs that invade my space. (The fact that I usually get Bob to do the dirty work is about laziness, not fear.)

However!

Moths, for some reason, are a different story. Perhaps my cold-hearted rationality in most arenas of my life leaves a bunch of leftover irrationality to be concentrated in one place, and moths are it.

I don’t mind big moths. A moth as big as a bird is cool! A moth the size of a… well, the size of a moth is my bugbear.

I hate them. I really honestly (rationally?) can’t see any good reason for them to exist. They seem to have no idea what’s good for them. They are appallingly stupid. In fact, I think that’s why I hate them so much – it’s because unlike any sensible creature that chooses “fight or flight” when threatened, the moth flails around blindly in the most open vulnerable spot it can find, i.e. around my head and my blindly flailing arms.

(As I type this I’m starting to get a little paranoid. Nothing can be this stupid – perhaps moths in fact have method in their madness… a nefarious master plan may be afoot!!

But I digress.)

Silent Night

I feed Bug Linus lying in my bed at nights. (This is the loveliest way to feed a baby, by the way, because you can spend the entire feed looking directly into big blue baby eyes!) The other night at 3am a puny moth landed on the bed a foot away from my head. It had beady black eyes. It just sat there.

A few whimpers at my sleeping husband elicited the slurred suggestion “Squash it”. Now, much as I dislike moths, I don’t want one’s bloody remains on my hand or my bed, so I heroically grabbed a tissue and placed it over the moth. I’m not sure exactly what the next step in my plan was. It probably involved squishing.

But the little demon escaped my brilliant prison and flew straight for me. Luckily I had the courage and presence of mind to A) screech loudly; B) jump over to Bob’s side of the bed; and C) throw my baby away.

It’s in trying times like these that you really get to learn what you’re made of *sigh*.

Bob had woken and the moth had vanished (although every brush of clothing or hair against my skin for the rest of the night brought on a panicked flap-and-slap!) so I guiltily realised I should check on the welfare of my beloved baby…

…He was lying on the bed where he’d been brutally dropped, and he was silently laughing at his stupid mummy!

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PS You can thank Gaga for the title’s awful pun!PPS Did you know that “bug” is actually a specific scientific term for an insect “having piercing and sucking mouthparts housed in a long ‘beak’” [Wikipedia]? (Thanks QI!)

Age = 9 weeks 5 days

150mm of Rain in 24 Hours

Yesterday winter began. We’ve had a deliciously sunny and warm April, so we were due for bad weather, and in the wee small hours of yesterday morning it well and truly arrived. Over 30 hours of torrential rain have left SH1 at Pine Hill and the Kilmog affected by slips and the Civil Defence siren sounded in Oamaru this morning (according to the radio – I didn’t hear it myself!).

Ain’t No Sunshine

The washing will be a bit harder now, with no more sunshine to dry and sanitise my truckloads of cloth nappies. And all the walks and trips out that I thought about doing with Bug – well, I guess they’ll be even harder to think about doing

8 Week Glow

But it’s fine, because over the past couple of weeks I’ve been feeling much better about life with Linus. Not that I had any major problems before that, but now I think the two of us are really getting the hang of enjoying the time we spend together playing, feeding, and sling-sleeping, while making the most of our time apart (i.e. cot-sleeping for Bug, housework and occasional leisure for Mummy).

Age = 8 weeks 6 days

This Easter we had houseguests staying with us: the Ms from Napier. On Sunday we decided to give them a “holiday” day (rather than a “tourist” day) and go down to Bob’s parents’ crib (if you don’t know what a crib is, examine this list). I invited my Mum to join us so she could catch up with R and I and meet A (3 1/2).

The day was very relaxing: some of us played cards, some of us went to the beach, some of us threw tantrums, and some of us lay around on the floor watching all of the above. (At one point A got so upset with her parents discipline measures that she sobbed plaintively “I want Bob!”.)

Now either all the excitement was too much for Linus, or he was bored and wanted to spice things up, but in the middle of the afternoon he decided that just after he’d vomited all down his Nana’s shoulder was the perfect time for him to do a big poo. A powerful poo. The kind of poo, in fact, that squirts out one’s nappy, out of one’s jumpsuit, and onto one’s Nana’s shirt (inside and out!) and jeans.

And in spite of this unprecedented show of malice (not to mention coordination) his Nana still loves him! What a sucker!

Age = 8 weeks 6 days

YAY! Last night Linus slept from 11:30pm to 4:30am. That’s 5 hours, which is technically “sleeping through the night”.

Mummy and Daddy are proud, but more importantly well-rested!

Age = 8 weeks 5 days

The past couple of weeks have been lovely, because Linus has finally started smiling in reaction to things.

A couple of weeks ago my Mum called me through to see Linus smiling, and I sort of saw it, but it took another week or so for him to start doing it regularly. Now we get a few smiley periods each day, and sometimes his face even laughs – it’s absolutely gorgeous!

He most often smiles at faces (he LOVES his Nana!), but he also loves the pictures on the wall in our bedroom, so much that I’ve often come across him staring at them with a delighted (amused?) smile on his face. I’d like to think he’s feeling the magical allure of Venice, but I think it’s really the simple square shape on the plain white wall.

Bug’s smiling/laughing combines with his chatter and sustained focus on faces to make an irresistable combo!