One Year On and Counting...

Christmas is here again, and Oscar has just celebrated his first birthday with the obligatory presents, cards, balloons and a large slab of chocolate cake. My little boy is growing up fast, which leaves me feeling excited for the fun we will have next year, but just a little bit sad that my baby isn't going to be a baby much longer. We're slowly weaning him from breastmilk to cow's milk from a beaker, which I also have mixed feelings about. Cuddling up with Oscar while he has his milk before bed is my favourite time of day - we have a cosy bolthole in the corner of his room where we listen to music and escape from the world for half an hour - and both often end up drifting in and out of sleep. But Oscar's second year should see a change in the routine: bedtime stories, milk in a cup and letting Daddy share the bolthole now and then.
Instead of sleeping through Christmas dinner under a napkin as he did last year, I expect Oscar will share our festive food and hold court over the table from his highchair. Let's hope the crackers aren't too scary.

Midnight Stroll

Oscar and I went for an afternoon stroll today in a very cold, sunny and windswept Osterley Park. Well, I did all the strolling, and Oscar jiggled along behind me in the baby backpack wrapped up in his snowsuit, mittens and fleecy hat. The backpack we have has a very nifty device: a little mirror on a string that you can use to check that your baby is still there and is having a nice time. This mirror got used several times today as Oscar's hat has a tendency to slip over his eyes, particularly when I'm walking at a brisk clip. Several people stopped to comment on the fact that I was taking a baby on a scenic walk with his eyes covered (I wondered why I was getting very little reaction to my 'look at the leaves, look at the ducks Oscar' commentary). By the time we'd negotiated the long driveway back to where my car was parked, it was getting quite late and the nice hat-realigning volunteers had all gone home for sunday tea and crumpets by the fire. I couldn't really see what Oscar was up to in the mirror anymore as it was getting pretty dark. I figured that he was alright though, as I could hear him chattering and singing away to himself. It wasn't until I got back to the car that I realised that not only had he been chatting to himself through his hat (which had worked his way down over his entire face by then), but he didn't even have a fighting chance of being able to push it up himself, as he had lost the use of both hands too. There was a strip of velcro on the top of the backpack which had cruelly snared both wool mittens. He seemed ever so pleased to be back in the car for some reason...

Nappy Nightmares

If anyone knows an easy way to get a nappy onto a baby that doesn't want to sit still for a second, please let me know. Cash waiting.

Feeling the Heat

Oscar has been very lucky as he's managed to escape childhood illnesses for his first eleven and a half months, apart from the odd sniffle here and there. But this week he succumbed to a random virus that left him with a temperature climbing close to 40 degrees. The poor wee lad was knocking out more heat than a pensioner's gas heater, and his rookie parents were very worried. All he wanted to do was to crawl onto my lap and go to sleep, which is most unlike our hyperactive baby. I spent a few sleepless nights with my ear plastered to the baby monitor, listening to him toss and turn fretfully. Calpol and cuddles did the trick though, and the doctor gave him a clean bill of health two days later, and he's back to pulling out the contents of the kitchen cupboards and eating anything he can get his hands on.
He's really started to understand language now, and responds to the phrase "Where's the light?" by pointing upwards, and makes a roaring noise when he sees his toy lion. He has also learned to shake his head if he doesn't want to do something, the little monkey. The ability to point has given Oscar the means to find out what things are called, so I'm busy verbally labelling the contents of our house for our curious boy. I sense that we're on the brink of toddlerhood (he stood up without holding on to anything for the first time this morning) so I'm bracing myself for some delightful fun and games.