Month: March 2006

Three generations of protesting Judges, make it into the papers (see Political Activists).

Little Will with his Auntie Lucy, keeping warm in front of the fire on a very cold, snowy day. So much for Spring….

Frustrated this evening as William’s refusing point blank to take milk from a bottle unless absolutely starving hungry. We’ve made sure he’s had at least one a day from 4 weeks, in case I’m not around for any reason, but it’s always such a struggle to get him to feed. Then if you put him on me he’s happy as Larry. SO annoying.

However, as Eddie kindly pointed out, I never go out on my own without Will so why would he need a bottle? Plus, it’s a total pain faffing with bottles/sterilising/warming etc when you’re out; balanced with the option of breast feeding in public (or at least hiding behind a bank of menus), the latter is probably a preferable alternative.

We shall persevere nevertheless, if only so that if I ever DO go out on my own and fancy a few ales, the baby will be fed and watered. If he chooses to wait for me to come home, then that’s entirely up to him. He’s got a while to decide though, the first night out I’ve got in the diary isn’t until June with the NCT girls!

William’s current favourite word. Boooo is another new one which he’s working on. For a boy with such a loud scream, it’s amazing what a very quiet speaking voice he has.

He’s reaching out for things now too, this morning it was Eddie’s glasses. He’s a real little smiler, and so much more settled now than he has been (I say that whilst glued to the monitor listening to him grizzling about being put to bed and praying to God it doesn’t escalate after an afternoon of solid crying no matter what I did….)

Last night he woke at 4am for a feed and was seriously cross when put back to bed. So I caved in and went to fetch him and see if he was still hungry – only to be met with the cheekiest grin you’ve ever seen. He was clearly very pleased to see that he’d managed to fool Mummy into letting him back into bed!

Yesterday we took Will to have his jabs and see the Health Visitor (‘Mad Auntie Hy’). Everything’s come at once a bit, my perfect baby has a strange rash on his face which nothing will shift and it turns out that the equally mysterious circular piece of dry skin on the top of his head is caused by RINGWORM!!! I was MORTIFIED. Turns out Molly our cat has worked her magic on poor William. ‘I’m a terrible Muvva!’

When it came to the million and one injections they inflicted on my poor boy, I’m afraid I had to look away, gulping furiously, while Eddie did the honours and held him down for the nurse. He was ever so good actually, but was very poorly later in the evening. Fortunately we had the Calpol on standby and it seemed to help (apart from the dose Eddie managed to administer just as William drew breath for another scream and nearly choked on it – suffice to say panic ensued and Eddie ended up performing a version of what looked like the Heimlich Manoeveure on poor Will).

He finally crashed out at 9.30pm, exhausted. Poor little mite.

Today we joined the people of Whitchurch to protest against the kebab shop next to Father’s shop and it’s application for ‘retrospective’ planning permission for its abberation of a chimney which has been belching out noxious kebab fumes for the past 3 years. It’s all part of his campaign to be a councillor for Basingstoke Burrough.

Great fun, tea, biccies and camaraderie. Will had his own special banner and we even got our picture taken with Grandpa for the Andover Gazette! William will be growing dreads and tunnelling under motorways before we know it….

Have just spent 40 minutes in a dark room rocking a loudly protesting Will to sleep. Parenthood gives you reserves of patience you never knew existed.

Tomorrow’s adventure – political rallying in Whitchurch. More of that + photo to follow.

I was going to write something twee about how fascinating William’s hands are – always on the move like two small, pink anemones.

But enough of that – after another fractious day, on top of a punishing (and depressing; I made the mistake of weighing myself) trip to the gym, I am absolutely exhausted. It’s not the sleep deprivation, because as you know, Will is an angel at bedtime, but it’s so draining keeping him fed/amused/awake/asleep/calm during the day.

Am eating the most enormous bowl of pasta with tomato and mascaropone sauce you’ve ever seen and then I’m collapsing in front of The Apprentice and Desperate Housewives.

I leave you with this piece of mindless baby trivia – Will has white bogeys. I’m not sure if that’s normal, the other mums say their babies’ snot is green. I wonder if London Babies have black bogeys?

Bleurrrrrrrrrrrrrrghhhhh….