The first smile

Newborn babies, although they look cute and smell nice (or very bad, depending on what's going on down below), are actually fairly boring. Sorry if this shatters anyone's illusions of the marvellousness of early motherhood. But think about it - newborns sleep a lot (especially ours, she's closely related to the Dormouse in Alice in Wonderland), and when they're awake they're either feeding, having their nappy changed, staring aimlessly about, or failing to recognise anyone. This might be a bit harsh - there's always fun to be had watching different expressions pass across their faces while they're dreaming (what about I wonder? Must be bosoms, in Emily's case, since she knows little else...!). But trying to engage with a tiny creature who doesn't even recognise you can be rather tiring - even a new puppy knows who you are pretty quickly, and generally reacts with excitement. But it takes us humans a long time to do anything. How did we ever survive I wonder? After all, baby giraffes are up and walking within minutes of birth, while it takes humans a whole year to get this far.

However, from six weeks on everything gets a bit more interesting. Emily's vision must be quite different now from when she was born, and she clearly now recognises us. I think. At least, we have all now been blessed with the very occasional big smile. It's a rather piratical smile, looks a bit like she's saying "Aarrggh Jim Lad", but it is very cute. And I even managed to catch one on camera, yay!

Next step: potty training. I wish....!

Politics - why?!

It's been a day of elections today, but I admit to facing these with a fairly significant degree of apathy. The elections were for the local council and for the European parliament, and I realised as I strolled to the polling booth that I had no idea who our current local councillors were, and also no idea who our MEP is. Actually, I didn't even know who our MP was, but I had a quick look on t'internet so I do now.

I was however determined to vote, despite my ignorance, for two reasons:

1. I might at some point want to whinge about something the local council or the European parliament has done, and I don't feel I have the right to do this unless I've voted.
2. Lots of women fought hard for my right to vote, so I'd feel guilty for not casting my vote.

Having said that, I voted from a position of dreadful and shameful ignorance. I didn't even read the guff that came through the post box since it all sounds the same: "We promise to reduce crime. And lower taxes. And improve healthcare. And spend more on local services" - could be any party really couldn't it? I ended up voting LibDem in the local elections (which I've done for years, never did any bloomin' good though) and Green in Europe. Dear Mr or Mrs MEP: please can the UK have some flash recycling bins like they do in Spain, where you can recycle pretty much anything? Thanks.

One final thought on this topic: why are our politicians so pathetic? In this ridiculous expenses row, why couldn't there be someone who claimed for items like a Learjet or a private island instead of tins of catfood? Perhaps UK politicians need lessons from some of the more corrupt African nations - that'd liven things up!

It's been emotional

I joined a very small group this weekend - I am now an official member of the "I Have Attended More Than One of My Father's Weddings" brigade. I don't think I know anyone else who has been to the wedding of their own parent more than once, so I feel that this is a fairly posh and exclusive club to have joined.

On a more serious note, it was a really lovely weekend. My dad and his new wife have been together more than ten years so a wedding had been on the cards for some time, and I'm really pleased that they've finally tied the knot because they're so right for each other. If nothing else, they can have conversations about obscure topics like Italian renaissance architecture without either boring the rest of us, or making us look stupid because we invariably know nothing of the topic under discussion so we just nod and smile vaguely. We can't usually get a word in edgewise anyway.

The day itself was very low key - they'd had their house consecrated (that's the wrong word, but you take my point) so that marriages are allowed to take place - the ceremony was in the dining room and the wedding breakfast (why is it called that?!) in the garden. The weather was beautiful and the garden looked amazing, except for one plant which had gone crazy and had distinctly Triffid-like tendencies. Picture below of it trying to eat Isabel. I kept waiting to hear a scary ticking noise.

All of the girls had manicures and pedicures the day before (Isabel's hands pictured below!) and ate cake and drank champers, while the boys indulged in a day of sport (three matches, and thank goodness Chelsea won the FA Cup or that would have thrown a spanner in the works). And for a wedding gift, what else can you give two people who are now of an age when they need comfortable shoes but (drumroll please) - Crocs. With little hearts on, naturally. And they say romance is dead...!

The social niceties of being four

Isabel's birthday is coming up in August and, being the youngest child in the year, she's been to several birthday parties during the course of this school year. We're now planning hers, and I'm starting to realise that there is a large range of social pitfalls which we need to negotiate now that she's in school. Life was much easier when she was younger. Those I've identified so far include:

1. Venue: she's really enjoyed a couple of the parties, and requested the same party for herself. We went to one in a local soft play centre last week which was great (possibly because it was on a Friday and therefore empty - she and her friends had a school INSET day but everyone else was still in school!) and I've now booked hers in the same location. Does that make me a copycat? I think I may just have to suck that up - as the last birthday of the school year I suspect this may happen more than once over the course of the next few years!
2. Invitees: I had a long conversation with a neighbour about this recently to try to understand who you're meant to invite to these things. Several parties so far have been for the whole class, but since the soft play party is £11.50 per child that's going to bankrupt us. Result - someone's going to be insulted. Again, I think I'm just going to have to suck that up. Or suck up to the bank manager. Either way, a lot of sucking is going to have to take place!
3. Party bags: Do I go educational (a nice book!) and impress the parents, or buy cracker-filler crap and impress the kids? Or a combo of the two? Either way, that's another addition to the total bill...

Actually, all I really want can be summed up in two points: that Isabel has a good time, and that I don't bankrupt myself. At least the cake's sorted: CostCo does a delicious and large cake, which you can have personalised, for about £12, and it feeds at least 30 people. And that's my top tip for the day!

Sleep, or the lack of it

Almost without exception, everybody who sees me at the moment says two things: (1) what a cute baby or how old is he/she or some other baby related question, and then (2) how's she sleeping? People are so interested in how much sleep Emily is getting, and then making a judgment on how tired I may or may not be, it's really funny.

So, for regular readers (hello all four of you!), here's a sleep update. She's not a bad sleeper, but does a lot of it during the day. Like all small babies, she resists sleep at all costs between 6pm and 10pm (although it's 9pm now, and she'd nodded off, so I started writing, but the act of blogging and making a cup of tea has been enough to rouse her from her slumber, curses! But it's low level grizzling rather than full blown rage so I'll carry on typing for a few minutes...Husbandio, the lucky git in this house who isn't breast-feeding, is out on the lash, leaving me to deal with two smalls by myself). After her 10pm-ish feed she usually sleeps through until around 3am or 4am, feeds from one side, but then often falls asleep without a full feed from both sides, causing her to wake up again an hour later for dessert. Which is MOST irritating! Not going to bed til 11pm, being woken up once in the night for half an hour, and then being up at 7am at the latest is bad enough, but being woken up twice in the night is taking the mick, if you ask me.

I don't want to wish her babyhood away, but this aspect of it I could happily dispense with. Roll on the day when she's in bed by 7.30pm, stays there (quietly!) for 12 hours, and visibly recognises me when I walk into the room. It's all plain sailing from there (ha!).

Deja vu

Apart from the fact that she's more chilled than her big sister was, young Emily is in many ways very similar to the way Isabel was as a baby. She has the same little facial expressions and gestures, and I sometimes feel like I'm reliving part of of my life over again. It's interesting, because there are some things I'm deliberately doing differently this time around. I think I made Isabel more clingy than she might naturally have been because my tendency when she cried was to try to stop it, usually by carrying her around. With Emily, I'm really trying to understand the reason behind her crying, and to solve the problem rather than just alleviating the symptoms. To date, there's only two occasions which really make her cry - when she's hungry or tired. If I think she's due a nap I leave her to grizzle for a few minutes in the Moses basket which I don't think I ever did with Isabel, so hopefully she will be a very good sleeper and able to settle herself easily as she grows older. Isabel is very good now at going to sleep, but we did have to go through a period of putting her down and letting her cry at night for what seemed like weeks (but was probably only a few minutes each night for a couple of weeks!) - am aiming to avoid that this time.

There are also some things I'm deliberately doing the same - for example, I just signed us up to do a baby massage class. It's a five week course starting next month, and I'm hoping to do it with some of the NCT girls, all of whom have now had their babies (leading Isabel to describe them as the pregnant ladies who aren't). Best of all, it's free, under a UK scheme called Surestart which more people should take advantage of - lots of activities for people with babies and toddlers. Must take advantage of these things before it's time to go back to work. Since Emily's one month old already, and I only have six months off, I can already feel the time slipping away...

Don't give them excuses like this!

Never mind swine flu - the disease that really should be concerning us is man flu, as indicated in this article on the BBC news site. It is a truism that men fare worse when it comes to colds and flu - or at least, they suffer louder. It's something I've managed to knock out of Husbandio over the years, using this handy set of techniques, which I present here to my female readers. Use this kit with my blessing. It's a mixture of carrot and stick, and has worked well for me.

1. Never offer any sympathy for a cold. Simply cover the sufferer with a blanket (head included, if need be), prepare one mug of Lemsip, and then leave the room. After all, you don't want to catch the lurgy too.
2. Never react to sniffs and sideways glances, which are clearly designed to elicit the phrase "Are you feeling any better?". This only allows them to regale you with a list of their symptoms.
3. Suffer stoically through your own colds, with the help of drugs (I'd recommend Contac) and alcohol.
   
4. Offer lots of sympathy when they are actually properly ill!