If there is anyone left who actually bothers to read this blog, I apologise for my absence of late. The blame can be firmly laid at the teeny feet of my little daughter, who is 11 weeks now. Here she is:



Do you like her little red dress? I do. It cost $2 - and I am most enamoured with it. It is one of the many lovely things for her that I've found at my favourite secondhand shop. I keep meaning to take pics and blog about them but then the moment passes...

Those Canadians know what they're talking about

It appears we now live in an age when journalists are highly, dangerously dispensable.

Take a look at this. Never have I seen a better argument as to why we need to reward (even just keep) good journalists and subeditors.

Brilliant.

Ten

Ten little toes of a 10-week-old.

A return to words

Nine weeks after having Baby T, I feel like some semblance of (new) normality is returning. Last week I was asked to write a monthly magazine column - and naturally jumped at the chance. I've started on the first one today and it's so lovely to be working with words again. Never mind that I turned the house upside down looking for my voice recorder - and never did locate it. Hmmm, the dodgy shorthand had to do when I did my first phone interview in MONTHS this morning.

Another way in which the words are returning is that I am ENGROSSED in a fantastic library book - the first major thing I've read since T was born. It's The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield. The Petite Gourmand blogged about this book and it sounded great so I got our local library to order it in. Now I can't put it down. If only I actually had more time to sit and sink into it...

In other news, T has discovered she has the ability to gnaw on her hands. Clearly not feeding her enough.

Eight weeks

Here we are at 8 weeks. It's a very nice place to be. T is charming us with lots of lovely, cheeky grins and funny, shouty coos. Tis all rather cute.

But even more impressive is the fact she has demonstrated that she can (note the 'can', as opposed to does - not counting any chickens yet) sleep for a 10-hour stretch. She has done an 8.30 to 6am sleep three times now. Not every night, but she is capable of it...

This is good news indeed.

He sings! He dances!

Finally! I have a way to put my boisterous 4yo to good use: may I introduce you to Mr Entertainment.



Now she's 7 weeks old, T likes to partake in a little awake time. She will lay on her playmat (nappy off, legs kicking like wild ... oh the freedom!) while her crazy brother shows her books, demonstrates how to use her toys and generally jumps around
like a nutter.

And she reckons he's the coolest dude she's ever seen.

This morning I let her lay there and kick about, watching him, while I had a shower. I lectured him about not jumping anywhere near her head, not thrusting the books into her face, etc, and then I had the fastest shower in the world, expecting to hear a pained cry any second. Of course, I didn't ... she was as happy as a lark.

Miss T's awake times do tend to be spent happily these days - she's really 'coming alive' with loads of smiles and coos, squeaky noises and 'puppy wagging its tail' squirms. Golden days indeed.

The first 6 weeks

The little one is 6 weeks old today. I know I keep saying this, but it feels as though she has been around forever. Even while I have been in the thick of it, I still have to say that I adore little newborns. Some people like babies better when they can play and grin or talk, but I love them when they are small and squeaky and smell so delicious. Even if they do steal your sleep.

Baby T is starting to try to smile and she opens her eyes so wide when she hears our voices (especially her brother's since he, at 4, knows NO VOLUME CONTROL WHATSOEVER). Just last night we moved her into her cot in E's room and she slept very contentedly in it. I can't explain just how it floods my heart to walk in there in the dark and see not one but two peacefully sleeping children ... aaah!

Speaking of sleep, T's daytime naps are erratic - some days (like today) she'll impress us with three nice big long naps, but other days it's more like catnapping. At night she does the witching hour thing from about 6-9.30pm, after which she will sleep somewhere between 4.5 and 6 hours, feed and then pop off for another 4-5 hours. That's not too bad, though I do still dream of a night when I could sleep right through ... oh well, never mind.

It's never fun dragging yourself out of a warm bed at 3.20am, but I think there is a secret pleasure to sitting in the dim light, in the total quiet, with nothing else to do, nowhere else to be, just gazing at your baby.