Tonight, you and I stay home from the show. It's on at 8.30 each night - well past your bedtime - but most nights you sleep through it, nestled against me in the Ergo. Still, it's nice to have this quiet time with you while the apartment is empty.
Tonight, you and I stay home from the show. It's on at 8.30 each night - well past your bedtime - but most nights you sleep through it, nestled against me in the Ergo. Still, it's nice to have this quiet time with you while the apartment is empty.
We are in Adelaide for the Fringe Festival. Your dad is playing in a show that I am musical director for, and we are doing a run of nine nights in a row. Tonight, before our show starts, we go to a wine tasting cabaret show. We thought it would be quite casual and laid-back, but it is in fact a very intimate setting and I'm nervous about you being noisy and disturbing others. You sit happily on my lap, then your dad's and finally the floor, playing quietly, until, 45 minutes in you start to make loud (happy) noises during a quiet moment in the show and I decide it is time for us to go.
The table in our Adelaide apartment is just the right height for you to pull yourself up with - and so a new skill emerges.
Our sick little man. You sleep fitfully, needing to be sat up during your many coughing fits. We keep you safe between us.
Midnight, Adelaide Children's Hospital. We arrived in Adelaide this morning. You're sick and occasionally having trouble breathing, and we are worried. Poor little bubba
Heading to the airport very early in a strange (dirty) car seat in the back of a maxi taxi, you are unsure.
You have slept in many places in your little life. Like most babies, movement lulls you to sleep - loving arms, slings, Ergo carriers, the car and occasionally the pram. But when it comes to sleeping on an unmoving surface, you struggle.
When you were tiny and new, we tried to put you to sleep in a bassinette in our room. This didn't work, so we quickly moved to a small co-sleeper, a little miniature bed for you in our bed, between us. This worked well until you grew out of it, so then we began to co-sleep without it.
There are many things I love about co-sleeping: feeling you next to me, being able to soothe and feed you practically in my sleep and having you wrap your little arms around me in the night. It reached a point, though, where the three of us slept better with you in our room but not in our bed. So eventually we set up a porta-cot next to our bed and put you in this.
Turns out porta-cots aren't that comfortable for babies to sleep in every night. And so we have made the decision to move your big cot from your room (which you have never actually slept in) to ours. You are sleeping better now, but still come into bed with us for part of the night.
Sweet dreams.
Playing peek-a-boo with Grandma. You're getting very fast at pulling the handkerchief off of your face, and when it does come off it always reveals a wide grin.
You and Cocoa continue to get along famously. Now that you can scoot along on your belly, you wriggle up to her for a lick. She happily obliges.
At swimming lessons with Aunty Fi, you sit on the edge then throw yourself forward into her arms.
One of your dad's go-to moves for getting you to sleep is to pop you in the Ergo and play piano. Inevitably this is how you always end up - asleep with your head tilted right back, from looking up at Daddy.