I don’t like having my picture taken. I think this is part of the reason I’ve found online dating so hard: in most pictures I have of myself I’m gurning in a ‘you might take my photo but I don’t care’ way, or they’re shameless selfies taken in the mirror.
Oh Hux, what do we say about the baby who is pretty much entirely perfect?
Ok, not completely perfect. I could do without the 2am feed, especially as its getting colder and is therefore that little bit harder to get out of bed. But other than that, my boy is pretty wonderful.
Americans really have the right idea at this time of year. Thanksgiving: a time for family, friends, warmth, love and CARBOHYDRATES. Lots of carbohydrates. I love the idea of a big turkey accompanied by potatoes and pies, though I still get a little wary of the addition of macaroni cheese.
Before I had kids I didn’t realise how much guilt would be involved; guilt and parenting go together like olive oil and balsamic vinegar, like ginger biscuits and a cup of tea, like a glass of wine and my mouth. It’s a given, it’s meant to be.
The guilt is constant, yet not always about the same thing.
Every time someone asks me how old Hux is I feel terribly guilty. I look a bit crazed and panicked and say “uhhhh” a lot, because I don’t really know. When I had Elfie I knew exactly how old she was down to the weeks and days, but now all I know is Hux is somewhere around 14 or 16 weeks. Sorry, Hux.
Despite this little ball of chub repeatedly waking me up all night because Mummy I don’t like my bed, I want to sleep in yours, his little gummy smile is still a delight to wake up to. I guess I can sleep tomorrow night?
Today is Huxley’s conception anniversary.
Huxtable, Hux, Huxey, Monkeyface… my little man is 10 weeks old. And I could not love him any more than I do. I don’t know what it is about this baby but he is so thoroughly adorable it hurts, and I’m sure I’m not being biased here just because he’s my son. He’s so handsome, so pretty.
I‘m finding myself at somewhat of a crossroads with Hux. He’s a very sucky baby – feeding on demand which is about every 2 hours right now – and I reckon his late night feeds especially have become about comfort rather than hunger.
At the moment I am of the mindset that I will feed on demand for a while longer before I start trying to establish more of a routine.