A Very Hungry Caterpillar

The title of this entry refers to the fact that Oscar has developed an Houdini-like ability to wiggle all the way to the very top of his vast cot whilst wearing a baby sleeping bag - a feat which seems spectacularly difficult to me - until his face is wedged firmly up against the cot bars. This causes him to wake up and demand what seems like atleast 15 gallons of milk. I am slowly becoming accustomed to being a 24-hour human milking machine, finding optimal winding positions, and untangling Baby O from his own complex manoeuvers.

It's amazing how quickly your perceptions on what constitutes a good night's sleep changes when you are looking after a newborn. Before our little scrap came along, five hours or less shut-eye would have counted as an appalling night, whereas at the moment if we manage to get that much I'm practically giddy with euphoria (or could I just be delirious through lack of sleep?)

But I should count my blessings. Give or take the odd bad night (trapped wind is Oscar's current nemesis - thank goodness for Infacol) we are gliding through these early weeks relatively quietly - he really is a happy little boy most of the time. He is growing and changing every day, and I'm determined to appreciate every moment of this special time.

Oscar's First Christmas

As Oscar decided to enter the world eight days early on 16th December, we were able to have the family Christmas together that we had not dared to plan before. It could have so easily been a completely different scenario: I feel so sorry for the women who spent the 25th huffing and puffing in labour wards around the country and those that were so heavily pregnant that they felt like they were more stuffed than the Christmas turkey.
But as it happened, it turned out to be very civilised day. Neil cooked a fantastic roast lamb dinner with all the trimmings. Little O even joined us at the table (I fed him while we ate, and he lay on my lap, with my napkin wrapped around him like a blanket - he's so little!)
Despite his tender age, Santa still remembered Oscar and he received a cot mobile, rattle and a lovely book. I'm sure that this is the last Christmas for a long time that he'll sleep right through the present opening session.

Meeting Great Granny

We took Oscar down to Portsmouth yesterday to meet a VIP: his Great Grandmother Evelyn. Evelyn is 93 years old and often puts my level of mental clarity to shame (she regularly does crossword puzzles and works out the anagrams on Countdown), although her old bones aren't what they used to be so she spends her days in bed now.
I told Oscar the night before that he needed to listen to what she told him and that what she says goes; she's very much the head of the family and Oscar is her 20th descendant.
If Oscar has half the sense of adventure that his great-granny has then he's in for a good life. Evelyn served in the Forestry Commission in Scotland during the War, travelled extensively in her youth (she would walk to work every day so she could save up her bus fares to go on cruises) and was the first woman in her office to wear trousers!
She loved little Oscar, and judging from the way he lay blissed out in her arms, I think he loved her too.

All the World's a Baby

Either my hormones are playing tricks with me or I'm going insane. Since I gave birth last week, most fully grown adults I see look like little babies. Their limbs seem shorter and chubbier, their cheeks more puffy, and their noses are tiny. I really started to worry when I switched on Newsnight and even that nasty old George Bush looked like he could do with a nappy change and a bounce on someone's knee (although strangely enough, Jeremy Paxman didn't look in the least bit infantile - maybe his nose is just that little bit too big).
Maybe it's the fact that I've spent about 90% of the last week staring intently at Oscar's little features which has caused this odd phenomenon (a bit like when you get off a ferry and still feel like you're floating up and down). I know your eye sight changes during pregnancy - so maybe my lenses have somehow changed back into more widescreen mode again - causing temporary chubbiness in adults. But that seems pretty unlikely I admit.
I rolled over in bed a few days ago and was convinced that Neil had put the baby in bed with me - in actual fact it was the man himself - complete with full five o'clock shadow and chest hair. Not an easy mistake to make you might think, so I'll just put it down to the power of hormones.

A Blog about Oscar

My little son Oscar was born a week ago on December 16th 2005. He was due to enter the world today, which happens to be Christmas Eve, so he was obviously keen to have enough time to get his Christmas shopping done and write to Santa.
He's a gorgeous little chap who looks remarkably like his daddy Neil (and nothing at all like me). He seems pretty content with life, inbetween negotiating explosive nappies and trapped wind. I'm hoping he's inherited his daddy's laid-back attitude to life, innate kindness and very silly sense of humour. If he turns out to have more of my personality traits then he may be more of a handful! He has managed to totally enchant me already, and I'm deliriously happy to be his mum.
My labour is best described as fast and furious - after a day of timing twitches and playing scrabble (appalling scores and lots of three-letter words) I had a pretty intense 7.5-hour labour which culminated in a natural delivery without epidurals, opiates, forceps or other beasties (gas and air rocks!). Oscar's shoulder got stuck just as he was coming out so there was one scary moment when the hospital alarm went off and I looked up and saw about 15 people looking down at me. But he managed to find his way out without any harm done.
I was supposed to be giving birth at home in a lovely big birthing pool with a thermostat and filter, but was transferred in with high blood pressure in the early stages. So we drained the National Grid for a fortnight and spent our days being pool attendants for nothing! The midwives and doctors at West Middlesex Hospital were absolutely brilliant and went out of their way to help us have the natural birth we wanted, so three cheers to them (and thanks for the tea and toast afterwards).