This morning, I thought I heard a precursor to a giggle, and I wondered if we might be getting some laughter from the boy soon.
I went over to Sally’s house for a pleasant afternoons knitting, leaving the boy with his dad. When I got home, he giggled!
Mark heard the first one, and called me in, then we had a second and third. Actual, real, proper, laughing and giggling.
The. Cutest. Thing. Ever.
At 2:18pm today, Inigo was 12 weeks old. Officially he’s now a baby, and he gets more and more cute and funny and entertaining to be around every day.
These are some crappy images from my mobile phone.
In health news, he’s doing OK. Breastfeeding is going brilliantly - except that he hasn’t gained any weight in two weeks, approximately the same period of time that the breastfeeding has been going well.
He’s also still having periods of intense pain, which are frequently turned around instantly by 1ml of Mylanta. I have a referral to see another paediatrician, but I can’t get an appointment until early April. I tried another one, he doesn’t have an appointment available until June. His receptionist was quite narky on the phone, and treated me like I had Munchausen’s by Proxy.
Of course I know that there are parents that seek medical attention for kids that behave completely normally, and I am very aware of that possibility. I also am very aware that because the boy had a rough start, it is expected that I’ll feel a bit precious about his health.
But I also feel like it’s my job, as his mother, to be his advocate. And if a doctor doesn’t listen to me, I’ll find another doctor who will listen to me.
If a doctor listens to me, or better still - sees what I am seeing, and then tells me that he’s fine, I’ll be really happy. But until that happens, and I see my little guy screaming in pain regularly, I want to do everything I can to get to the bottom of it.
Happy 1/4 birthday little guy.
Most of us give to charity now and then, Mark and I make a donation every year at Christmas instead of buying gifts for his family. We try to make it different every year, and last year for the first time we chose a human instead of an animal charity - we chose to send money to the orphanage we visited in Vietnam.
Today I came across the story of Macho, a baby alpaca who was the last of his flock to survive after they were abandoned to starve. Macho has been rescued by Edgar’s Mission, and is looking for sponsors to contribute to his care.
For all you film nerds out there.
Thanks to DKM for the link.
Inigo in his hand knitted organic merino soaker for the first time - kit from Eco Yarns
I took the squirt to see our community health nurse on thursday morning, as I wanted to ask her if she thought his issues were normal and nothing to worry about, or if it was worth pursuing further doctoring. My confidence was rocked rather badly by the Tresillian paediatrician, so I wanted to be sure I was on the right track before going off half cocked. She thinks it’s worth pursuing - screaming in pain an hour after a feed isn’t normal apparently. So we’re getting back on that horse, and I’m not getting off until we get an answer.
Alex sports a new hairstyle after a bath
I then went in to visit Alex, Adam and Sarah, and Sarah gave the boy a manicure and pedicure. Little fingers and toes have very little nails, and I still can’t bring myself to cut them. I tried once, it took me an hour to convince myself that I could do it, and then 15 minutes to cut one nail. I have a phobia about finger and toenails (I once put a staple through my thumbnail, and had to have someone else change the dressing until it had completely healed), and I come out in a cold sweat at the thought of having to trim his nails. As it is, I have to keep his hands in socks when his nails get too long, until I can get him over to see his Aunty for a manicure.
The view of the city from Balls Head at twilight
I picked up Mark from work, and we took the boy to Balls Head Reserve for a picnic. Since it was the day before payday, we had about $11 between us, which bought some chips and BBQ sauce, and a bottle of very cheap plonk, which we drank out of the bottle.
We were almost molested by a wild possum, who only left us alone after we convinced him that all the food was gone, and he went off to pester someone with food. One of the other picnickers was startled by a wet possum nose pressing against her leg as she was absorbed in conversation.
A fuzzy view of my Valentines Day. A gorgeous view, a beautiful husband, and a superb baby.
Ted, Inigo & Bev - his first “portrait” with grandparents
And Ted is fine.
Mark’s dad had to have surgery for a blood clot, which he was told was very dangerous. We were all very worried, and news that he was OK was a huge relief for all of us, especially Mark. We’ve all heard the stories about scary in-laws, controlling, manipulative, and downright mean, so it’s taken me a few years to get my head around the fact that Mark’s parents are exactly as kind, thoughtful, generous and caring as they seem. It’s a little bit strange to me that people can be that nice and not have a hidden agenda, but they are. Better parents in law you could not hope for.
Oh, and I finished knitting the socks. Now I just have to graft the toe and weave in some ends, and it’s safe for dad to have another birthday.
Today Kevin Rudd did a good thing. I was going to call it a wonderful thing, but really, it’s just the right thing. And the fact that we had to wait until 2008 for an apology is outrageous. But he did it, and he did it well. And my opinion of him as a man has been raised, I feel proud to call myself an Australian again, after years of shame under the Howard government.
But who the hell is Brendan Nelson to bang on about the first fleet, and how ALL Australians have contributed to our nation. Today is not the day Dr Nelson. And mentioning that “good was meant to be done” is bullshit, it diminishes the impact of what needs to be said.
So I shouldn’t be surprised that these words are coming from the man who said yesterday that if Kevin Rudd wanted to negotiate the terms of the apology, he should be talking to him, as the most important person.
He says that compensation should not be given, and then talks about sexual abuse of Aboriginal children, without taking responsibility for the breakdown of culture which caused this issue. He wants to create another stolen generation in the name of protection.
I am not an expert in Aboriginal issues - I am actually pretty ignorant. Which is disgraceful, as the area in which I grew had a proud Aboriginal history. Yet, I was nearly 20 when I met an indigenous Australian for the first time.
I have travelled to New Zealand, and though most Kiwi’s wouldn’t necessarily think that they have got the issue 100% right, they have a much better grip on fair and equitable treatment. We have a lot to learn, and a long way to go. And accepting that white Australia has stuffed up is the important first step to fixing it.
Not going in to the really bad news, but the slightly bad news is that the boy seems to have regressed to feeding every 3 hours (after being on 4 hour feeds since hospital).
The GREAT news is that for the past two days Inigo has had every feed from the breast (except the morning one that Mark does), AND IT DOESN”T HURT!
Of course, it could all turn to shit tomorrow, and he’s still really unsettled and looks like he’s in pain after every feed etc., etc., but I FINALLY feel like we’re getting some progress with breastfeeding.
I know it’s bad manners, but I feel like the SHOUTING is justified!
PS. I stayed in today (after an intense week of going out every day last week), and instead of going stir crazy, I did laundry, tidied up in the boys room, and made French Onion Soup from scratch. Only impressive because all we had in the house was a bag of mouldy onions and a glass of wine left in a bottle from three months ago. I am legend.
Of course, I didn’t finish the sock, and I nearly burned down the house making croutons for the soup, but hey…
Inigo has been really unsettled tonight, we can hear gulping when he swallows and draws breath for the next scream. We are beginning to suspect that his reflux isn’t under control.
Mark has cranked up the Scissor Sisters, and is singing along to “I Don’t Feel Like Dancin”. The screaming seems to have stopped.
Inigo, a study in green
I STILL haven’t finished dad’s 2007 birthday socks, and that is still top of the queue. But I am at the toe of the second sock, so I could finish them in an hour if I just had an hour to sit down and do it. I have an hour now, but I am blogging about it instead of doing it.
But I need to finish it, so that Dad can have his richly deserved socks, and so that I can move on to my next project - a cotton or bamboo cardi for ME.
I’m having an odd morning, and since I don’t really want to phone a friend and unload on them, I’ll do it here, and provide an opt out (if you don’t want to know, don’t read - simple).
The boy was really sick last night. Spewing heaps, full of mucous, and SCREAMING like he was being tortured. We were on the verge of putting him in the car and racing off to the hospital (apparently they have a new emergency Paediatrician!), when he calmed down and fell into a deep sleep. He’s vomited a lot, that’s not really new, but since he’s been on the Zantac, he’s been a lot less spewy, and a lot happier too.
Yesterday he was particularly unsettled, and obviously in pain for a lot of the day, but when he turned into Linda Blair it freaked us both out. Just as I turned to Mark and asked him what he thought about going to emergency, Inigo fell into a deep sleep. He slept from 11pm to 5.30am, and seems pretty good this morning. But of course, I’m still stressed!
Daisy (the long suffering feline) has been leaving odd wet patched where he has been sleeping, and I think he needs to go to the V.E.T. (we don’t say the word out loud).
And there’s other stuff too, which I won’t go into here because I don’t want to dwell on it, but suffice it to say that I’m feeling a little wobbly today. So the boy and I are off to visit Miriam and Oscar, and I’ll try to maintain my grip.
Feets by Inigo, Socks by Ailsa
This is the best idea I’ve seen in ages. A lightweight, ultraportable tripod solution that you can carry in your jeans.
We’re a little broke right now, so I won’t be buying one of these to wear next week when our PM says sorry.
But you should.
And on a side note - this article discusses the increase in animal abuse prosecutions in the US - by my friend Michelle! Rock on Michelle!
Today Inigo weighed in at 4.75kg, and Oscar at 7.1kg. Woo hoo! When he had his shots last week, the doctor said Inigo was “underweight”, but his paediatrician (the one that oversaw his care in hospital) said on Tuesday that he is “thriving”. Apparently, the NSW Department of Health uses outdated growth charts that were calculated for bottle fed babies (who tend to be bigger). The World Health Organisation just published new charts for breastfed babies, but we’re still using the old ones. According to the old charts, Inigo is in the 10th percentile (bottom 10% for weight), but the WHO chart puts him a little higher. Not a huge difference, but it makes me feel better!
Inigo in his first Hawaiian shirt, with shorts to match
Today was Alex’s first birthday!
Inigo and I went up to Pearl Beach for a wee celebration, and in honour of such an auspicious occasion, we broke out the outfit that Donna brought back from Hawaii. So of course we had to have a photo shoot before he could spew on it!
Alex and Grandad in the surf
Happy Birthday Alex
And congratulations to Adam and Sarah for doing such a great job as parents to my favourite nephew.
I saw the most beautiful thing the other night. Lara and Inigo gazing at each other with love (twooo love). Watching the adoration in both of their eyes brought tears to mine.
And Lara taught Inigo a game. If you stick out you tongue at him, he sticks out his tongue back at you! Unfortunately, I didn’t manage to get a picture of Inigo with his tongue out, so this will have to do.
No pictures, because we got there just as it got dark and only just before the show, but it was a GREAT night.
See The Other Andrew’s post for great pictures!
Apart from being chased out of the park by security guards, and missing my boy terribly.
Inigo spent the night with my parents, and behaved beautifully! Apparently he’ll be welcomed back.
Thanks to mum and dad for taking such good care of him, and to Bev and Ted (Mark’s parents) for taking him for a few hours on Friday night while I did a course.
Oscar was born on the 25th of November, 4 days before Inigo. He was 3.2kg at birth. Inigo was 3.1 kg.
In the two months since they were born, they have changed quite a bit. Inigo has put on just over a kilo, and is above his expected weight for age after considering his birthweight. Yet he is in the 10th percentile for weight at 2 months old.
Oscar has obviously put on a bit more than Inigo! He is in the 90th percentile of weight for age, and seeing them together, you could be forgiven for thinking that Oscar was a lot older than Inigo. They are just two normal healthy babies, both exclusively breastfed, at opposite sides of the scale of what is normal.
Inigo wearing a flannelette nappy with a scottish fold, and a bespoke polarfleece cover by Whizz Kidz.
Ok, so it’s falling off in this picture, but if you do the nappy cover up properly, they stay on, and hardly ever leak - even when the poop is explosive. When we have used disposables, there have been incidents. I won’t go into detail.
Before Inigo was born, I did quite a bit of research into Disposable Vs. Cloth nappies (diapers for those of you in the US). Media reports quote a study that found that cloth nappies had THE SAME environmental impact as disposable nappies, and tend to encourage the use of disposables. Which seemed odd to me.
I know that growing and processing cotton is hugely wasteful, but to me it seemed almost impossible that a disposable product could be as environmentally responsible as a reusable product - it just didn’t make sense. The only edge that was conceded to cloth nappies was in using a nappy service - apparently the economies of scale involved mean that cloth nappies get the edge in that circumstance.
So I kept looking, and eventually found “The Australian Nappy Network” and Oz Cloth Nappies, both advocacy groups for using cloth. It turns out the study that is widely quoted starts off with a few dodgy premises. And we all know that good science requires good foundations, right?
Firstly, they assumed that a baby would go through 4-6 disposables in a day, not 6-8, which is more realistic (at least for a baby, older kids may differ). They also assumed that cloth nappies would only be used 150 times before they are discarded - they didn’t consider that cloth nappies can have lifecycles up to 800 uses, they can be passed down to younger children, passed on to friends, and even repurposed as household rags (I use old cloth nappies to clean the bunny houses). They also assumed that cloth nappies would be laundered using the most ridiculously wasteful laundry methods, including ironing the nappies after they come out of the dryer!
Most cloth nappy users don’t use nappysan, many wash in cold water, and only HALF the normal amount of detergent is recommended (especially for babies with sensitive skin). No antibacterial or bleach products are needed if you can line dry - UV light is an excellent stain buster, and kills any nasties hanging around. If you follow these washing guidelines, and have a washing machine with a water level sensor (so you never use more water than you need for the cycle), then it makes sense that you’re doing the right thing by the environment by using cloth nappies on your child.
And if you can find nappies made out of an alternative to cotton, the difference is even bigger. Hemp and bamboo are both excellent nappy materials, bamboo is far more absorbent than cotton, and far less wasteful to produce. Put it all together, and using cloth nappies is a no brainer.
Of course, there is all the extra work to consider…
Which I don’t - since having the baby I have had to wash every day anyway, and an extra load every two days is no big deal. I fold nappies (or often Mark does it) in front of the TV, and it’s as relaxing as knitting 
Inigo in his first cloth nappy - moments after getting out of NICU.
And it looks so much cuter than disposables!
Check out this article for a more detailed critique of the study.
P.S. - Terry nappies are very “old school” right now. The funky babies are all wearing “Modern Cloth Nappies”, which are tailored like a disposable, and look really groovy. You can see Inigo wearing a modern cloth nappy here, and here.
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