Well most things cooperated quite well in the morning to
keep us on schedule, although Cain was super slow on his walk. Apparently
Francis woke up three or four times through the night to feed – not that I
noticed – maybe it was the full moon? Us males need to go into a deep sleep so
we can go hunter-gathering in the morning. Don’t blame me, blame my genes.
Anyway, Ananda was only about 10 minutes late leaving for
work, and I was surprised there was no tears – from any of us! After safely
waving goodbye to Mam as she drove off,
Francis and I looked at our spreadsheet for the day. He seemed to nod
consent, or was he falling asleep due to boredom? Who knows?
Needless to say the day proceeded swimmingly, for the first
45 minutes, until the first blood was drawn – literally. Francis has an
unhealthy obsession with power cords -
anyone else’s young babies have a similar Houdini like death wish ? – so I
“safely” tucked one away by wrapping it up on the wall panel heater (great at
heating the wall behind it and the 3mm of air in front of it). Obviously Francis saw this as a challenge and
managed to stand on his tip-toes and
grabbed it, thus causing the plug end – yes the pointy metal fronds that stick
into the wall – to pendulum down and smack him full on the upper lip.
Now anyone who has stood on one of the these things in the
middle of the night and lived to tell the tale knows how painful theses plugs
can be - (USA and NZ people do not know how lucky they are with their
wafer-thin metal bits – UK ones are made out of industrial strength iron
girders). So imagine been smacked in the face by one – then imagine being
smacked in the face by one when you’re 11 months old! Poor Francis was
obviously quite upset at this and a tiny little bead of blood appeared on his
top lip.
I have to admit my first thought was not for Francis, but of
the possible hell-to-pay I may face from Ananda for lasting only 45 minutes
before harming our dear child. Once I had gotten that selfish thought out of
the way, Francis was all too willing to be comforted, and after a few minutes
with a cold wet cloth pressed to his lips ( picture a fight scene from Rocky) was fully mended
and ready to take on the world again.
Fiddlesticks:
Our next self-allotted task was to hang out the laundry –
which was all the floor mats from our house move. This went well despite the
windiness of the day and the unwieldiness of trying to hang a floor mat up with
clothes-pins, but we succeeded. However, upon retiring to the laundry room I
was obviously resting on my laurels too much and let my concentration slip for
a second and dropped the whole bucket of clothes pins all over the floor. My
Dad would be so proud – “Fiddlesticks” was the exclamation I used. Surely that
gets me a point and makes up for the GBH the plug orchestrated on my sons face.
No?
Daddy Milkies:
This went remarkable well. He slurped down some
pre-expressed Ananda liquid gold in about 9 minutes – but then became obsessed
with the empty bottle. I had to channel
my best Paul Daniels to make it disappear before he settled down to go to sleep
in my arms. As usual he went through the three stages of going to sleep: 1)
denial, 2) denial then 3) GRAND DENIAL. It always amazes me how his last
massive attempt to resist sleep is
followed almost immediately by a deep slumber.
I think he has an internal light switch – or is it a fuse blowing
somewhere?
I did manage to nap myself for a wee while after I went back
to the kitchen and finished off my half –drank breakfast cup of herbal-tea –
cursing the fact that the baby monitor had decided today it was not going to
work – and our neighbour who decided that was a good time to start sawing wood,
with a table saw.
Lunchy munchies :
After some play time when he woke, I managed to get some
hummus, broccoli and rice crackers into the wee man, followed by copious
amounts of cheddar. Definitely his mother’s son. The first time I ever met Ananda was over a
cheese plate! Anyway, Ananda made it
easy on us (me) today as she returned just after lunch-time.
Pe-ana:
More hotly discussed
then the Trump-Clinton election race in our house is the portmanteau of
Francis favourite afternoon snack.
Peanut butter and banana. We like portmanteau in our house (yes you can
look it up on Google) and started out as Grananda, and now have morphed into
Granancis. The naming of our second
child, should we be blessed enough to have one, will have to be thought out
very carefully.
Anyway, I like Pe-ana but Ananda has been pushing hard for
“Pea-bana”. I ask her why today and I
quote “ because both peanut and banana have a b in them”. Oh dear – guess I’ll
be teaching Francis how to spell, as well as do mental arithmetic and throw.
(On that note Ananda is two-for-two at throwing the dogs tennis ball over the
neighbours fences (one either side of us). Be warned, do not stand behind her
in a stone skimming contest.
So to bring this dismal tale to an end for day 1, here’s a
tally….
Two poos – we’re only counting Francis
One cut lip
One swear word avoidance
4 Naps* - 2 for Francis, one each for Grananda
·
Dog naps not counted
I apologise for lack of pictures - still no internet at new place.
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