6 Months + 14 Days

Dearest Oscar,

You'll have to forgive your Mamma; your 1/2 birthday has come and gone and we can't get over the fact that you are already a 0.5yrs old.  If we'd the internet at home Mamma would've posted this 14 days ago. One day I will teach you how to count to fourteen and add on another thirty nine, because that's how many days Mamma and Daddy have been off-line, without any internet connectivity to speak of. Our signal was as absent as a chickens fart (I knew that would make you laugh). 

Now, what have you been up to since we last recorded a milestone of yours?...

You've moved countries. Much to my horror.  Your Daddy has taken being back in South Africa like a duck to water. Mamma on the other hand has taken to it like a cat to water. Not well at all. I miss my friends. I miss our little tiny flat. I miss your Aunty Kerry and Uncle Mornay and Max the Cat. You on the other hand don't seem to realise this change at all. Just like your Daddy - you are a duck.

You've started coming into your own a little more. Like your Daddy your save your laughter for things you find truly funny. I've caught you laughing at things when you thought you were alone. Your favourite funny thing is pulling on the mirror on your play gym and laughing at your own reflection.

You've started what we adults call weening. This is a very stressful phase for Mamma, because I fear you might be allergic to something (you've had eczema since you were 3 weeks old). You've pretty much gotten bored with baby rice so we've moved onto butternut. You're not sure about butternut. Prunes do the trick. Which is a good thing as you are quite often, literally, full of s**t. Sweet potatoes and apples (pureed together) make you gag. You like HIP organic baby food (Mamma fed you this out of desperation after you got bored with the butternut!). You adore gnawing on raw cucumber and carrots. You have two little bottom teeth coming through nicely. 

You've spent time, quality time, with each of your Godparents. Uncle Jimmy & Aunty Ang loved baby sitting you before we moved from London. Aunty Kerry spoils you rotten and always thinks of fun things you might need (Uncle Mornay always wants to make sure you are safe and comfortable) and Uncle Richard made a special trip from Australia to PE just to meet you last week. And he brought with him the entire Winter line from Cotton On Kids! You are a very very lucky and blessed boy. And when you struggle to sleep Mamma whispers in your ear the names of all the people who love you - it's a little like counting sheep but a lot more reaffirming and you are often out before I reach the end of a very long list. 

You pay attention more. You had Daddy and I in stitches today; with you in my arms I was explaining to Daddy where I think we could put some useful shelves above the tumble dryer underneath the stairs, you looked at me as I spoke and then to Daddy for his rebuttal - hilarious!

Today was the first warm, breathless day in weeks (certainly since we've been in our new home), so I sat you outside on the deck and let you play eye-spy on your own. You saw and noticed your first plane in flight and were amazed. The highlight were the flapping pigeons overhead. The look on your face was priceless.

You don't roll - yet. You're almost sitting unaided. And you love watching videos of yourself or looking at photographs in which you are the focal point, this seems to calm you down when you cry. Daddy hasn't cottoned on to the fact that the digital photo frame you gave him for his birthday is actually for you. You also like it when Mamma reads to you, as long as the stories are short.

Your face lights up at almost anyone who pays you attention. You've been sick twice since your arrival and both times you've handled it like a trooper. You put up with Mamma when she wants to play "Eat your Toes" and your can balance on these two things beneath your tummy (one day you'll discover that they're called 'legs'). You don't sleep through the night anymore, you choose to wake at 3 or 4am for a little bit of juice (if Daddy is on call) or water (if I am) and a nappy change - the doctor told us you need to drink at least 1,200ml a day given your current weight (8.3kg).

You are strong. You are healthy. And you are kind.

You are more than either of us imagined.

You still adore Duddley and Theodore and choose to cuddle them in equal measure when you fall asleep at night.

The days with you fly by. I love every second of every day that I get to spend with you.

We love you. Always. And greatly, Mamma and Daddy. 

PS I + I = III

Thank-You for the great pics Uncle Richard

How to administer medicine to a baby...

Let me start off by saying that if you think your child is ill, take them to a real doctor. Not a pharmacist. Not a herbalist. Not the old lady down the road who used to be a nurse and who now cultivates a really lovely herb garden. No. Take them to a proper certified, medical practitioner who has experience, preferably, with small children and/or babies. Not animals or children who might be behaving like animals. 

My reason for saying this is simple;  last Thursday I took our baby boy to a pharmacist and explained all of his symptoms and was told...wait for it...that he's teething. And with teething this can sometimes manifest as a cold. By Sunday Oscar was still not well and had actually gotten progressively worse, so I took him to the same doctor my brother saw as a baby who diagnosed bronchitis and he insisted on testing for a bug doing the rounds called RSV (Respiratory Syncytial Virus), it turns out he has this but thankfully we managed to catch it early on. 

So trust your instincts. 

The problem with children that are sick, is that they require a conveyor belt of medication. The sicker the child, the longer the conveyor belt. And while children might have opposable thumbs, they can't use them just yet, which makes self-medicating an impossible task. This means that it's our job, as parents, to administer said medication. 

Now here in lies the problem; a child, especially mine, isn't stupid, and trying to get 3ml (3ml x 2 or 3 or 4 depending on how much has been prescribed) of liquid medication past the lips of an infant is near impossible the second time around. The first time is easy! The little bugger is trusting and has no idea what's going into his mouth, he just know it's NOT milk and right now he's game for anything that is NOT milk. When the odd taste dissipates and his taste buds return to normal, he's swears blind he's never going to trust you ever again or eat anything you put in his mouth that is NOT milk. 

This is where the fun begins. 

It would be cruel to pin down your child and force feed them. The thought will cross your mind at around 3am but I urge you to move past it as quickly as possible. Just make sure your child is comfortable, lying in a semi-flat position, I found, works best. It's futile asking your partner to help as it just means the child can move his head from side to side if being held. Your partner will come in handy later on (will explain more).  

Make sure you have enough time on your hands. This will really depend on the amount of medication that needs to be given. One type = 5 to 7 minutes. 

Make sure your child has had something to eat but wait a little while for it to move through the digestive system. If you thought a red wine stain was a b***h to get out of your carpet you've not had to deal with milk, infused with red cherry cough mixture and a pink hue of Calpol. 

Have plenty of baby wipes to hand and place a bib strategically around his neck. It's best if the child isn't wearing his 'Sunday Best'. 

Now I've learnt in the space of a week that it's just plan stupid loading up a teaspoon with the medication and trying to get it past Oscar sealed lips. It's not going to work.

A syringe works best. Stock up on these, and as long as you clean / sterilise them they can be used for the duration of your child's illness and discard them once they're better. 

Do not fill the syringe with the entire dose. Work with 1ml at a time because you can get more velocity on 1ml than you can on 3ml without causing your child to gag. 

Do not let your child see the syringe. Again, they're not stupid, even at 5 months and 8 days old, Oscar has clocked what a syringe IS and what it is used FOR. 

With your syringe loaded, your bibed-up darling in a semi-flat position and baby wipes strategically placed nearby, come out of no-where and surprise your child!!! Don't scare them as this will have an adverse reaction. You wanna make him/her laugh, preferably opened mouthed. This is when you pounce, and before they've even realised what has happened you have managed to get the syringe in the back of the mouth against his cheek and emptied 1ml of yucky tasting syrup. 

And repeat 6 or 7 or 8 or how ever many times you have to. 

This is when a partner does come in handy as you can take it in turns; one of you can be the pouncer (the person with the syringe) and the other can be the pouncee (the person delivering the opened mouthed surprised reaction). It's also handy having a favourite toy nearby so that you can alternate and keep the game going for as long a medically needed. Props come in handy too - I've got a pair of Easter Bunny ears that have been a life saver!

Lots of praise and cuddles are needed afterwards because it is slightly traumatic for you both. It would be a good idea to give your little one a cuddle too although he's not had to do ANY of the work!

Remember that at the end of the day, laughter really is the best medicine so make sure your little one get's plenty of that. So is fresh-air and sunshine, so hit the streets and go for long walks. And remember to seek professional advice from a medically trained professional - I can't stress this enough!

Good Luck. And may the force of the syringe be with you. 

Oscar's medicine - I must point out that to the left is what the pharmacist gave him and to the right is the real MacCoy. Antibiotics are needed to treat any respiratory virus. 

Our little patient this morning - definitely on the mend. Try getting a teaspoon past those lips!

What is means to be a mother...

So it was Mothering Sunday in the UK yesterday, unfortunately Ryan didn't take the bait when I asked him four days ago which Mothers Day we should celebrate, thinking I might be able to score two separate gifts when it rolls around here in May. 

I'm new at this whole motherhood gig. And I think like a lot of mothers out there, I'm making it up as I go along (and I don't mind admitting that either). When I was pregnant I was filled with angst that I might not actually be any good at it.  It's not like this role comes with a manual or instructions and I don't have an annual review or anything (or God help me a mid-year review to check-in and see I'm on track and handling the "pace"). 

One thing is for sure, hands down, no word of a lie; being a Mom is by far the most rewarding, challenging and fulfilling role I've ever had. It surpasses being a wife, a sister, a daughter and a friend by miles. Don't get me wrong, I love being all those things to but when I was little the only thing I ever wanted to be was a Mom. I didn't want to be a vet, or a teacher, or a doctor (for a brief period I wanted to be a Cabbage Patch kid but that never really stuck). I would daydream about having a little boy and calling him Todd ('Santa Barbara' was a very popular soapie back in my day and Todd was one of the main characters who was involved with a very young Robbin Wright long before she married a Penn). 

I didn't become a Mom when Oscar was born, it all began when I found out I was pregnant. And so did the guilt that I was already a bad one when I'd have a cheeky glass of wine or a hot bath. During my pregnancy I'd daydream again about what our child might be like (thankfully Ryan vetoed the name Todd) and Oscar has completely surpassed all of my expectations. He is already a little character of his own making. He's in a predictable routine. He loves people and started 'talking' when he was around two and half months old. Like me, he gets frustrated easily but thankfully he's more like his Dad and perseveres through his daily arduous 'tummy-time' routine. He has different cries which we are now fluent in translating. He loves seeing faces he knows in photos - thank heavens for small portable smartphones with galleries that can hold thousands of these little suckers! 

Oscar loves tress, having had his first proper sighting on Leisure Isle some weeks ago. The bigger the better. He will stare, open mouthed, at these tall unusual green things for ages. He loves the wind blowing in his face. The stronger the better. And he knows the difference between my hairdryer and the real McCoy. 

Oscar dislikes drinking water unless it's from a syringe because this means it turns into a bit of game. And out of all of the toys, stuffed animals and interesting things he has to play with, he prefers sucking on his burping towel and cuddling up to it as he sleeps. He still gets a fright when either one us sneezes. And he's not sure about whether it's a good idea to laugh out loud or not because every single time he's tried he's ended up with the hiccups.  Oscar finds fishes and lava lamps fascinating (I must point out that these two items where not found together, as one would expect, in the basement office of a seedy nightclub set of some bad-taste-made-for-tv-Mafia-oso movie). 

Oscar understands what "it's all gone" means when he finishes his bottle but still decides to throw a fit because he just loves milk that much but never does this in public (which I'm eternally grateful for!). He loves bath-time and is still undecided about mid-morning nap times because sometimes they're great and sometimes they're not. He's still in-love with his reflection in the mirror on his play gym and will talk himself to sleep. And when he can't sleep because he's had a busy day, he prefers to be put on his side and have his back gently rubbed. 

Being a Mom means you get to know all these little things about your child. And each child is so unique and different. One thing I have learnt is that the things Oscar might like today and tomorrow, he might hate all together by the time a new week roles around. That's how fast they change. 

My best times of the day are in the evenings when I can watch him sleep, in the mornings when he wakes up and is so excited to see us he wriggles his whole body and every single moment in between. 

And I won't know if I've done a good job or aced any annual reviews until Oscar is bigger and has grown into a well adjusted, kind, thoughtful adult who contributes in some sort of positive way to this world we live in. And when I watch him sleep I think about what he might end up being one-day and like all mothers, I know that as long as he's happy, not living on the street and eating out of a dustbin then he'll be fine. 

But I want him to have a remarkable life all the same.

I don't love being a mother. I love being Oscar's mother. There is a difference. And any other mother will know exactly what I mean. 

PS: Oscar is definitely his fathers child to, he has a distinctive 'type' and prefers to save all the charm and gummy-smiles for pretty, leggy attractive types. 

The good, the bad, the ugly; our journey home so far...

For those that know me and know me well, know that when I've gone 'off-the-grid' it can mean one of two things; 

A/ I've won the EuroMillions and have acquired a brand new life and brand new friends

B/ I've gotten the sulks and don't feel like talking to anyone about anything (also known as 'the sh*!s')

For the last 10 days I've had the 'semi-sh*!s', semi because to completely withdraw into myself and not talk to anyone about anything, would be considered completely rude and somewhat improper. But I won't lie, the last 10 days have been hard.

So the good; seeing family and friends again. This is always good, great even. And seeing  Oscar being held and cuddled by his loving immediate and extended family has been an absolute blessing. He's met his Great Granny Rhoda, who defended his honour when told he looked like a little girl. We knew Oscar was/is an amazing little child but for others to bare witness to this too has been magical. Oscar is exactly 4 months old today...who would've thought that we'd be back here. Just goes to show that a lot can happen in 4 short months. 

Another good thing was the flight over as well as the flight down to PE yesterday. I'd been secretly dreading this as I thought that our child might decide to use this moment to turn into his alter ego and be a complete nightmare! So many friends wanted to know how Oscar managed and I'm happy to report he was a star, a rock star. He slept, ate and behaved as he normally does. He even flirted with the Virgin Atlantic cabin crew! We, on the other hand, were over prepared for the flight over. Why I thought we needed 5 bottles, 10 nappies and 3 outfit changes for a 10hr flight, goodness only knows! We were better prepared yesterday for the flight down; 1 bottle, 2 nappies and 1 warm zip-up top were just fine. More baby-wipes were needed though when Oscar decided to urinate up-against the side panel of the insanely small airplane toilet, as he lay (almost doubled over) on the insanely small changing table with a badly designed and dangerous gap between the table and the metal toilet bowl below (future domestic travelling parents - you've been warned!). 

The bad; the weather. It rained for 6 days solid in Johannesburg. And it's rained all day again today. Enough said. Karma's payback for me bragging about the awesome weather we were heading into! This has possibly turned out to be a good thing I suppose as it's given Oscar the opportunity to acclimatise to his new surroundings. For the last 4 months I'm pretty sure he's thought his legs were made out of cotton as he's never really caught more than a 5 second glimpse between changes. 

Living out of a suitcase isn't exactly a picnic either, especially with a baby. Tripping over bags while trying to navigate the early morning feed has been challenging. We no-longer take turns with this, as we would've done in London, as we're all within really close proximity to one another. I don't think Oscar has noticed much change to his normal surroundings, he has Dudley and SleepSheep by his side so all is good in the world. But you can see he is trying to figure out why we look a little fuzzy as he gazes up at us from his cot...mosquito nets take some getting used to. 

The ugly; the stark realisation that we are, in fact, in Africa after all. I miss the internet. No, let me rephrase that, I miss Wi-Fi. Fast Wi-Fi. 

But as my big sister would say; it's time for me to put my big girl knickers, build a bridge and get over it. We're here. And we better make the most of it...when it stops raining of course. 

7 Years and 3 Months

When you're in your early twenties you make questionable choices. I made a few myself, like cutting my hair really short...on a whim...by a barber. And bribing an airport official because I didn't want to pay the overweight charge (for the bag, not for me). 

But at 24yrs I made the most questionable choice of all. I said "for better or worse" knowing full well it would never be until "death do us part". What parted us was total insecurity (me) and a complete libertine (him). While my insecurities were not misplaced, the idea of being a divorcee before my thirtieth was something I was, and never will be, proud of.  

But it led me here, to where I am now. 

Seven years ago, on a sunny winters day, I met the love of my life. Some days stay etched in your memory forever and 09/02/07 is one of those days for me. The bar (Chopper Lump) that we agreed to meet at no longer exists. We went back there a few years later, before we got married and before it closed down, to daydream about going back there in our 50's with our brood. I still remember what I wore on our first date (jeans and a three quarter sleeved red pullover from Warehouse) I still have the necklace I wore as it's been my good-luck charm ever since (an oversized heart locket). 

The first thing I noticed were his eyes (sharp blue) and the way he spoke to the barman (respectfully). He told jokes that were actually funny and he was genuinely interested in what I had to say. I liked him right away. And told him so the next day. 

The guise of I just "wanted us to be good friends" lasted exactly one week when we started making out like a couple of teenagers under the London Eye. And again at Waterloo Station. Good friends don't do things like that!

By our fourth date, with him sitting across from me in his blue Aca Joe polo shirt at The Real Greek, I knew we'd have children together. Obviously I didn't share this revelation with him as that would've killed the mood and/or made him choke on a stuffed vine leaf.  But I knew. He was it. Him telling me he didn't enjoying watching sport sealed the deal. Although he did admit if he were to watch anything sports related it would be a female hockey tournament, a joke that I didn't get until he explained it to me ("twenty two  woman in short skirts running around, what's not to like?"). 

Someone wise once told me that your partner in life should be your best accessory. You should never be embarrassed to be seen out in public with him or her. Your partner in life is the person who brings out the very best in you. Who loves you for you and doesn't try to alter or change you in any way. Your partner in life should remain timeless. They're not  put on this earth to make you happy, but you're happy, nonetheless, just being in their company. And most importantly, you're able to be 100% yourself. If you have a partner in life like this...hold onto them and count yourself blessed. 

Seven years ago today, I had no idea I was about to meet the man who would become my partner in life, but I knew, pretty darn quickly, that he was (still is) infinitely special and unique. It took me a move abroad, a divorce and twenty seven years to find him, but as they say "better late than never". 

As we sat in our London flat this past Friday night, holding our baby boy who is exactly three months old today, surveying the carnage of moving boxes stacked ceiling height, we congratulated ourselves on having made it this far and it honestly feels like this is just the beginning. 

When you become a parent (unfortunately only a parent will understand what I mean by this) you will change the course of your life, turn it upside down and give it a good shake, all for the sake of someone else. A tiny-human who doesn't even measure a foot tall yet and has no-idea what is going on! The only change he may have  noticed is that the 47' TV has gone and left behind a baby 27'. 

You will leave all the friends you have made, a job that you love, the home you have built and start all over again, just so that your child can have a childhood that slightly resembled your own. You will leave your best friend behind, knowing it's okay because she happens to be your sister. And we're bound together forever; oceans and miles are no matter when it comes to the bond between sisters. But it's still painfully hard and heartbreaking. It will always be so. 

When you're a parent you become a lot less shellfish and a lot more selfless. And you never appreciate the sacrifices your parents made for you until you start making them yourself, for the sake of your own child. Who in turn won't appreciate it and will one day hate us both because we ruined his chances of becoming a professional premier league footballer or some other arbitrary reason!  

So here we are; seven years later with a three month old baby boy, with 50 boxes on a boat back to our motherland and two foreigners eagerly awaiting our departure in two and bit weeks so that they can make our old home their new one. 

I wonder what the next seven years will bring...besides a 7yr old boy who wants to pursue his dream of becoming a whatya-ma-call-it. 

The first selfie of us...taken in April 2007

Who would've thought hey...

Post baby hook-up...

I know hook-up means something completely different to people in their twenties, but when you reach your thirties, it just means that you've managed to spend some time in the company of other adults. That aren't related to you.  Or that you're married to. 

The last two days has seen me do a lot of hooking-up! And Oscar makes a terrific little wing-man (again, I know, totally different connotation). 

It started yesterday, hooking-up with all the other Mamma's and their tiny-humans from our Antenatal classes that we attended back in October. I must point out that during our second class the Midwife leading our session asked "Before we get started, could someone volunteer to arrange a get together once these sessions come to an end? It's really nice to stay in contact with one another".

The silence was deafening. Somewhere in the background I'm sure I heard a lonely cricket. 

Not one person raised their hand. For an agonizing 6 seconds. 

I have a strict 6 second policy, it works with food that lands on the floor, to getting back to my car before the parking expires. It also applies to volunteering for stuff. 

So I raised my hand. I should mention that Ryan was parking the car at the time and oblivious to the fact that we'd been self-nominated to become President and First Lady of the Antenatal Social Committee. I should also mention that the last good party I arranged was in fact our wedding, two years previously and that took me almost a year to plan. So the odds that I'd get this group of 20 people back in a room before our kids turned one, were slim to none. I did try arranging something, but I didn't try very hard. In my defense I managed to keep us all connected via email. 

So yesterday saw us all head down to a little pub on the river in Kingston. Great location and with (cheap) parking nearby which was super handy (it meant I could escape a lot faster two hours later). I have very few really good friends that I can be completely myself with. I prefer it this way. Because I don't do small talk. Or chit-chat. Or falsity. I'm honest. I'm blunt. So when I was quizzed on how I got Oscar to take to a dummy, I was honest. My reply of "I just stuck it in his mouth and he sucked it?" was met with disbelieving smiles and one audible gasp. 

When asked how many hours he sleeps at night? Again, I was honest "between 4 or 5 and that's usually in the early or late evening".

While others were exchanging their horrific (and I mean HORRIFIC) childbirth stories, I went to the bar and ordered myself a tea because I didn't want to be asked. Because I know I'd be lynch-mobbed if I told the truth. That I actually got through it very well indeed, it far exceeded my expectations and it wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be. Even peeing for the first time was like something out of a fairytale book.  

It was at this point that I felt this was becoming a little bit of a competition. And I'm not the competitive type. My little wing-man felt the same. It was at this point that he checked out and wanted to be put back in his stroller.

If one person had shared that being a new parent had made them go a little mad from the hormonal changes and that they'd been running on adrenaline for the first two weeks. That becoming a new parent can kick your rock solid relationship in the nuts because you're sleep deprived and still getting to grips with your new normality. That sometimes you stare at your little newborn baby and wonder what on earth you did right to create such a perfect little version that's one part you and one part the love of your life. Who at times you want to strangle because the first year of parenting is the toughest. If one person had shared that, I might've stayed for another cup of tea. 

And perhaps, maybe they did or maybe they would've, but one thing I have learned in the 5 minutes I've been doing this gig as a new parent is that time is precious. And to take a page from the book of a very close friend, "you've got to keep your shit real". There isn't a lot of time in the day and I want to make sure it's filled with being honest and blunt and keeping my shit real. 

And I'm working on being nicer as the love of my life says I should as I'm a bit of a bitch when I'm sleep deprived and hormonal. 

Then today saw us head back into the city and into the office one last time, for one final hook-up,  because I won't be returning to work after my 9 months of maternity leave. I will work. Obviously. We need to eat. And dress. But I won't be going back to my office. The decision wasn't made lightly. I cried for joy when I was offered my job 2yrs and 5months ago (thanks LinkedIn) because it had been the company that I'd longed to work for, for years. I'd tried, and failed, to secure a role when I first arrived in the UK. My sister works there, as does my cousin and numerous friends. I'd made some amazing new friends, some of whom will be in my life forever. I loved my job, the challenges and the changes I saw in some of the people I was responsible for, gave me a sense of purpose. It fulfilled me. 

And now there is Oscar. 

My sense of purpose is different. I'm fulfilled in a very different way. And the only changes I long to see are the ones happening on a daily basis with our son, who I swear, grows overnight. 

So with a heavy heart, I said goodbye to some really good, talented, spirited people today. But in my heart I know it's the right thing. I'm finally at peace with the decision Ryan and I made for the sake of our little family of three. 

It's time to move on. 

PS - talking about hook-ups; turns out our baby boy already has a type! Oscar could not take his eyes off of a certain attractive, bubbly Ozzy, with mile long legs and blonde hair to match. He was passing sideway glances and acting all coy (just like his father) ...someone is going to need a wing-man of his own...in about 21yrs!

Oscar with his Aunty Carol

It was a stunning day in London today...took a walk from Blackfriers to Fenchurch Street one last time

Project Night Owl...

Adams Mansbach wrote a classic book and in my opinion every parent should read. I won't tell you the title as that'll give the game away but trust me, get yourself a copy. My sister gave this to me long before I even fell pregnant. I think she had some weird premonition or something. 

Because when you're sleep deprived, considering having a glass of wine for breakfast and wondering why a 2 month old can't tell the difference between day (that's when the sun shines) and night (that's when it doesn't) you'll try ANYTHING. I even considered, very seriously, taking mine back to the hospital and asking if I could exchange my little night owl for one that knew that darkness = bedtime. 

Our little boy is actually pretty predictable. We're able to decode his little signs that he's wavering to sleep; he has a different cry, he throws his arms 'n legs around like a bad '80's pop break-dancer, he becomes deadly serious refusing to crack a smile and the dead giveaway - he'll rub his eyes. 

We're still very new at this parenting gig but for the last three nights we've worked to the same structure and so far so good. A couple of you have asked how we've done this and I thought it best to share it here; 

1. We worked backwards with time; i.e. how much sleep do WE need in order to function the next day and we agreed between 5-6 hours would be good. Which means that Oscar should have his last feed between 23:00 - 24:00 and because we want him to be full we'd give him a max of 180ml formula for his age (I should mention that I'm not breast feeding entirely). 

2. We block his feeds in hours; during a normal 24hr day we worked at between 3-4 hour intervals and gave us an hour block to do these in so that we're not rigidly clock watching, so 23:00 - 24:00, 19:00 - 20:00, 16:00 - 17:00, 13:00 - 14:00, 09:00 - 10:00, 05:00 - 06:00. 

3. We alternate the size of his feeds; the main feeds (breakfast, lunch and dinner) are bigger at 180ml and the feeds in between are smaller at 150ml. 

4. We set the scene; his last two feeds are done in his room, which is dimly light and with no distractions or noise (TV off, mobile phone and iPad out the room). 

5. We have a structure/routine; we started doing this in the very early days. Oscar will eat, then rest for around 10min giving his milk a chance to settle, then he has a nappy change. He also has a bath every second day (it's freezing here!) so that's done during the same block of time (16:00 - 17:00) when it's bath day. And his top 'n tail done daily in the 09:00 - 10:00 block. He also sleeps in his crib for his long morning naps and at nighttime.  

So the trick to starting this new routine and getting it to work was to start with the last feed of the day. This meant that with Oscar, who usually had his last big feed at 22:30, he'd need to wait until 24:00. That's like trying to tell a starving squirrel you're out of nuts. I waited until this designated time slot and then gave him enough milk to keep him quiet and then tricked him into thinking he was full - this involved keeping him awake or as awake as possible until 24:00 or there about without him squawking like a de-feathered chicken. I read to him, danced with him, sang to him and eventually after his 60ml feed he fell asleep for about 40min and woke just before midnight. 

Getting Oscar to actually fall asleep is a task in itself. I think I'd have more success mastering the art of fencing in a shorter time frame! Once every single need has been met and there is nothing more to be done, he's cuddled for a bit and then put in his crib. He has a little white noise maker called a Sleep Sheep that goes on and I use different settings for different times of the day (ocean for night and birds/forest for day). He also has a bouncer which he loves that vibrates and it's only ever on vibrate when we want him to sleep. I'm able to rock this gently until he fades away. He's a sociable baby, he likes being around people and will fall asleep just about anywhere, the trick is not to be too rigid about this.  

I knew, long before Oscar was born, having watched friends and learning from others, that I'd not rock my child to sleep or let anyone else do the same. Because kids are little buggers. They will want you to do this till the end of time once they get used to it. There is nothing wrong with rocking them until they've calmed down and are just about to nod off but not until they're in a deep sleep even an earthquake wouldn't wake them! 

There is no right or wrong way. No quick-fix or one-size-fits all solution. And I know just as soon as we think we've got this nailed down, he's going to pull the ol' switch-a-roo and blindside us. I'm not naive. But as long as your child sees the back of his/her eyelids for an extended period of time during the day. He/she is happy. Content. Eats and poops.  Then consider that a success!

I can also highly recommend a book called Baby Sense (thanks Penny!) and Baby Talk by Dr. Sally Ward both have proved invaluable to us. But first get yourself a copy of Adam Mansbach's book because when all is said and done you need to make sure you maintain your sense of humour.  Or else your tiny-human will break you. They smell milk AND fear in equal measures. 

Good Luck.

Multi-tasking as I blog

The calm before the storm