stroll
occassionally, the stroller sees the light of day. heh.
i’ll only bother with it when the Husband is out with me. such a hassle, doncha think? slings are still my personal choice of mobility, at this point anyway.
why, hello there! let’s go for a stroll, umar sufi…
and they called him… ThunderThighs
theories abound about how you can tell things from looking at your baby.
like, if the baby sucks its toes, another sibling is on its way (“ohh, tu tanda nak ada adik lagi…” says makcik as she chuckles indulgently.)
then there’s the theory where one fold on the thighs means your next child will be a girl, and two folds mean your next child will be a boy.
(wait… or is it the other way round?)
so, what do these ‘crystal ball’ thighs say, you reckon?
oh, and then there’s the theory about your baby’s nipples, where inverted means the next one’s a girl, protruded means the next one’s a boy.
now… go scrutinise your own nipples and see if them old wives got it right with your own sibling. :p
round-eyed boy
heh, those peepers of his, a conversation starter by itself. erm, again, we’re not sure where he inherited them from.
8)
the magic box
when i’ve run out of things to do with the little one (or in dire need of a bath or simply a break from entertaining him), i turn on the Magic Box.
sure, some parents may disapprove of the Bad, Evil TV for many various reasons.
i was one of those parents, admittedly.
but i figure, as long as *we* get to control what they watch and limit them to, erm, “educational” programmes, with proper parental guidance… it can’t be all that bad.
yeah yeah, justifying the use of tv as an occassional babysitter, what’s become of me?! tsk. :p
oh well.
baby einstein, anyone?
SHRIEK!
a rolling baby gathers no dust
ready… set… GO!
you can tell he relishes the freedom afforded by his newfound mobility.
the length of the mattress is, by no means, sufficient for his frequent turnathons. he’d always end up on the cold, hard floor, never mind the bumps on the head and other obstacles in the way, like that shoe rack in the far end of the hall.
had the door been left opened, he’d be rolling all the way through the corridor and into the lift, for sure.
“what? that’s the end of the road??”
apple
his first taste of an apple.
courtesy of his pak long.
was apprehensive at first, but i guess no harm was done. it was quite funny seeing him ‘devour’ his uncle’s apple-juiced little finger like there was no tomorrow.
sorry babe, that’s as much as you get for now!
pull me up!
pulling himself up to stand, at four months.
impatient lil fella.
my bub
multi-tasking is important when you’re alone in the house with a baby who can’t be left to his own devices for very long.
and the thing i like about slings like this, i can have both my hands free and keep him close (and VERY contented) at the same time. brilliant.
see? while putting him to sleep, floors are swept, bed nicely made, can even wear make up, lol!
bottle breakthrough
some time back, he decided to go on strike against the vile thing called ‘bottle’, which everyone, ranging from me to my mum to his dad to even my uncle, tried to shove into his mouth.
he’d scream blue murder upon contact, as if offended at the mere suggestion of having to derive pleasure from something so sterile and unnatural as a silicon teat.
“give me the REAL thang, dammit! WEKKKKKKK!!”
and so the battle continued for a few weeks. the thing about exclusively b/fed babies, they have a really good sense of smell and can pick up their mum’s scent even if she’s hiding in the farthest room in the house. so i had to force myself to leave the house while his oma tries give it a go, but he’d have nothing to do with it, swiping the bottle away with his paws.
i dug up from the net a lot of other cases of b/fed babies going through the same phase in their fourth month, even though they’d previously had no objection to the bottle, but i couldn’t find a practicle solution.
i happened to be browsing the aisles of, where else but kiddy palace, and chanced upon this strange thing called a nipple protector. hmm, i thought. mayyyybe, if i wore it, he’d get used to the smell and taste of a silicon teat ON me and figure it’s not such a bad thing after all… and so it was my last resort when i bought it.
it looks just like a bottle teat, but thinner.
the husband called it a ‘nipple condom’. but with holes.
i’d tried a whole bagful of teats and bottles of various brands by now – avent, pigeon, nuk (silicon AND latex), etc – and this was my final try, the avent variable flow. i had NO idea what it did, but desperation does things to your pocket.
i put on the nipple protector for a few days and he sucked on it as per normal.
after that, whispering a little ‘bismillah’, i popped in the avent variable flow teat with his bottle of BM.
voila.
chug-a-lug he went, as if he’d never had anything against the damned thing. he fooled me, the little twat.
i got his daddy to try it out again the next round, just to prove that it wasn’t a one-off performance.
it wasn’t.
i’m not sure what did the trick, whether it was the nipple protector (probably frustrated him due to the slower flow of milk), the variable flow (which is a combination of flows, of which i probably gave him the fast number 3), or the phase simply ran its course.
whatever it is, everyone gave a sigh of relief coz now… mummy can go back to work.
which made ME want to go on strike against the bottle too. :S
*poof*
and here’s where the unnamed blog entries disappeared for good, down the virtual drains of cyberspace.
so from here on, it’ll be mostly recollections of what happened when, according to the dates when the accompanying pictures/videos were uploaded.
oh well. for the sake of posterity.
but hey, as they say, hindsight is always 20/20!
(~24 feb 07)
