Parental responsibility

As a parent I am constantly striving to be responsible and avoid compromising Michael's dignity. That is why I valiantly fought the urge to take a photo of Michael with a coffee filter on his head.

Latest stats

Michael had his latest appointment at the baby clinic yesterday and here are his 5½ month stats:

Age: 5 months, 2 weeks and 4 days old
Weight: 8.770 kg (19.3 pounds)
Length: 69 cm
Head circumference: 43 cm
Current temperament: Quietly alert and chatty
Current location: Sitting in his Maxi Cosi

We are expecting his second tooth to make an appearance in the next few days because he has been very unsettled; chewing everything in sight; coughing and dribbling like a leaky tap. Apparently the nipple biting is also to do with the teething and not just that he hates me and wants to punish me for something. We took him out to Schiphol this evening. He is always lulled to sleep by the car and the general bustle of the airport and Phil and I can enjoy ourselves with a cocktail at the juice bar. Not a drop of alcohol in them, but fabulous nonetheless.

Michael said "Mama" twice today. It wasn't in any particular context but since I have been trying to get him to say it for ages, I am very pleased. My genius child :o)

I'm not sure if I mentioned the fabulous playnest we bought for him a while back. It allows him to sit up whilst supported and play. Much better than him getting frustrated on his back. Sadly, he is now starting to try to climb out of it so I don't think it will be long before we have to put the baby gates up and find a way to protect the DVD player drawer from little jam-coated fingers. How time flies!

The Wiggles

Michael and I just caught The Wiggles on TV. How cool is that show?!?

Battered by baby

My baby is beating me up. They don't mention this problem in any of the baby books I have. His little tooth has left it's mark on several fingers and both nipples today (so far). He loves to explore my face with his hands and unfortunately this leads to my hair being pulled and me being somewhat tenderised.

I think it would be unsporting for me to report him to the domestic violence unit of the police department because he is a bit young to do bird.

The return of the fatty lump

We took Michael back to the doctor today so that he could examine the lump under Michael's left eyebrow. We were pleased to learn that it has not grown at all but Michael has, nonetheless, been referred to the clinic at the hospital for further testing. The doctor said that it's proximity to the eye was his motivation for the referral. I took a sneaky peak at the referral letter and his belief is that it is either a lipoma, a cyst or an exostosis. I certainly hope that it isn't an exostosis. It's location makes that an improbability.

In other news, we are still waiting for Michael's second tooth to make an appearance. He has been grizzling all week, with the exception of yesterday. Despite the pain and the temper it has put him in, he has been progressing very well. So far this week he has:

• Started blowing raspberries
• Sat unsupported for a few minutes
• Cut his first tooth
• Found his feet

With the last achievement came the sad realisation that he was never going to get his foot in his mouth. His torso is simply too long. He can get his big toe to touch his lips but that is all. Poor little guy.

Indecision

Why is there never any consensus where baby issues are concerned? After Michael's first tooth came through I realised I would have to clean it with something - but what? There seem to be four schools of thought:

1. Clean with wet gauze after every feeding
2. Clean with wet gauze after every feeding and clean with toothpaste once a day
3. Clean with toothpaste that does not contain fluoride once a day
4. Clean with toothpaste that does contain fluoride once a day

What the hell?!? Some dentists say that toothpaste is bad for children under two; some say that breastfed babies are more at risk of cavities; some say that fluoride is dangerous for babies; some say that fluoride supplements are necessary in certain situations. We've gone for a less severe version of option 2 (toothpaste and cleaning several times a day with gauze - not after every feeding).

I have always been guilty of over-thinking things but good grief - the supposed baby experts don't make it very easy for me.

Speaking of guilt - I discovered today that I should have been supplementing Michael with vitamin D since birth. This is because breast milk only contains low amounts of vitamin D - the baby gets the balance of what they need from sunlight. Given that Michael's routine is exceptionally nocturnal, and that in The Netherlands he isn't going to get enough direct sunlight in winter, a supplement is necessary. I immediately convinced myself that he was going to get rickets due to my ignorance (I haven't had much sleep lately...) and Phil and the baby clinic had to convince me that it would be fine.

Still not 100% convinced... ask me again after I get a decent sleep...

Progress

Michael did not seem to be in any pain at all today and went to sleep tonight without painkillers. We have been having some trouble settling him at night because his body clock is telling him to go to sleep for the night at about 3am and wake for the day at 1pm. I have been trying to shift the routine to earlier in the day but my efforts have been hampered by the teething.

I had a crisis of confidence tonight that I shouldn't be nursing him to sleep. Most of the books that I have regard nursing to sleep as a big mistake that will lead to a child who is overly dependent on the breast and cannot self-settle. I have nursed Michael to sleep since he was born. I decided to search on the internet for methods to teach him to self-settle only to find the two online resources that I trust above others (Dr. Sears and kellymom) affirm that nursing to sleep is not only perfectly natural but also preferable to many other methods (albeit tiring for the parents). The suggestion is that self-settling is a developmental milestone that will come in time. Well I wish I had read this before then I wouldn't have felt so guilty the whole time!

Baby-induced hysteria

Picture, if you will, two otherwise intelligent, educated and rational people huddled at the foot of the stairs and giggling like schoolgirls in an anatomy class. Baby-induced insomnia can lead to one of two things - a short fuse or a fit of the giggles. I don't think I have giggled like this since I was a teenager. Anything can spark it off and it is most likely to happen when we need to be quiet because Michael is sleeping. Last night we were both snorting and snickering for a good ten minutes before we composed ourselves enough to go up to bed. Having a baby is undoubtedly one of the hardest things we will ever do and I am tremendously grateful that we can see the humour in it (most of the time).

Oh... and don't bother to ask me why I'm still awake at 4am...

TOOTH!!!!!!!

Finally the tooth has come through!!! WOO HOO!!!!!!
Can I sleep now? Pretty please???

Baby-induced insomnia

Well... here I am again... awake at 5am. After my last post Michael finally went to sleep and last night we had to medicate him again. I'm not willing to automatically assume that the teething is going to interfere with his sleep so I get him ready for bed as normal and put him down to sleep to see how he copes. If he doesn't, then it drags the bedtime out but at least I'm not needlessly medicating him. Tonight was particularly bad and he is, again, dosed up on paracetamol and asleep. I really, really do not want to give him paracetamol on a regular basis so I sincerely hope that this tooth shows up soon.

The downside to dealing with Michael's sleep problem is that Phil and I end up wide awake and slightly on edge at ridiculous hours of the night. Now, the sensible thing to do would be to wind down with a hot, milky drink and some soothing classical music on the radio, but we aren't sensible people. So I'm chatting on Instant Messenger and blogging my woes. Phil is - pause whilst I ask him - browsing, blogging and resisting the urge to stuff himself full of food.

Speaking (or more accurately, writing) of urges, I've got the urge to rewrite Dracula in the style of Terry Pratchett so if I am still awake in an hour or so I may start on that...

Go to sleep!

It is almost 5am and I've been up and down the stairs to Michael like a jack-in-the-box for the past 2 hours. He just keeps waking up crying. This really isn't like him - he has gone down to sleep easily for 11 hours a night for the past 2 months. Phil took a turn trying to soothe him... no luck. We checked the usual things - he is well fed; no leaks; good temperature; no wind. Then we looked in his mouth and can see a red line across the little lump where his tooth will come through. The baby clinic advised us to give him some paracetamol if the teething interrupted his sleep and that is what we have done. I know we probably shouldn't play with him but we're trying to relax him now so that the paracetamol can take effect.

I feel so very sorry for him, but I feel sorry for Phil and I too. Phil always wants to do his share, even though he works full-time and he is going to be exhausted today if we can't get some sleep soon.

Fingers crossed...

5 months old!

5 months old! Where does the time go?!? I love this photo - it is of Michael having a very earnest conversation with Dweezil.

Baldy baby

Phil and I are rather gutted to discover that Michael is losing his hair around the sides. He has a thick mop of hair on top but it has never really grown round the sides (beyond what he was born with). Now it is falling out. I discovered this when I had a peek in his moses basket. Little red hairs everywhere - so sad.

We had some fun and games with him at the weekend because of him teething. He was whinging and grizzling all day Saturday and even held his breath at one point. When this tooth eventually parts company with his body, either exchanged with the tooth fairy for money or knocked out when he falls on his nose chasing a butterfly, I am going to remember these past weeks and I am going to jump up and down on it! Never mind keeping it for eternity in a little porcelain pot - I want REVENGE!

He is now in 9-12 month sleepsuits and I don't dare speculate how long they will fit him for. I may as well just empty my purse into the mothercare till once a month. I was rather alarmed to learn that at 8.5kg, he is actually larger than our colleague's baby - that baby being 4 months older than Michael. As an August baby, he is going to be one of the youngest in his school year but I somehow doubt that he is going to be the smallest. Just as long as I don't catch him giving children a couple of years older than him a swirlie...

Do recruiters have souls?

Possibly an odd title for a baby blog entry but today the worlds of a recruiter, baby Michael, and a set of weighing scales collided, leaving me pondering this question. This afternoon, Michael was being weighed and toppled off the scales. Fortunately he was completely unhurt, although a little distressed and perturbed (paranoid Mummy took him along to the doctor just to check him out). At the moment this happened, Phil was called by a recruiter. The recruiter would have heard something like this...

THUD
Michael: WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!
Phil: SH*T!
Catherine (note of rising panic): What happened? MICHAEL?!?

Phil immediately hung up the phone. I ran to pick up Michael to soothe him, and the recruiter rang back. Phil shouted down the phone "NOW IS NOT A GOOD TIME!" and hung up again. Whilst we were on the way to the doctor's office, the recruiter rang for a third time and Phil let the call go through to voicemail. The recruiter left the following message:

Philip, hi, it's **** **** from ****. I'm not too sure what happened there
but the... er... phone went dead twice so I just thought I'd try you again...
erm... If you could please give me a call back... erm... I do have a specific
opportunity that I would like to discuss with you.

Eh? The phone went dead? Phil essentially told him to b*gger off and he somehow missed that?!? Since he will undoubtedly call back, I am tempted to answer the phone just to determine if he does have a soul. I imagine the conversation would go something like this:

Recruiter: Hi, this is **** **** from ****. Can I speak to Philip, please?
Me: I'm afraid that he spontaneously combusted whilst on the phone to you, yesterday. All I have left to bury is his left testicle and slightly smoking socks.
Recruiter (slightly subdued): Erm... I'm sorry to hear that...
Recruiter (brightening slightly): If you know of anyone... erm... who would be interested in a system administration position then please don't hesitate to pass on my details.
Me: I'll do that... yeah...