Bathed first thing: Dad cleaned, Mum took pictures. I think you can see that I still enjoy bath time: I wonder if I’ll ever get tired of it?

Pippa and Mickel came round, and Mum took some inconceivably cute photos of us all. Mickel was very happy to see me as usual, and he took great delight in touching my head.

Mum’s friend Rainer came to see us this afternoon for the first time. He was very taken with me, and held me for a while. I was happy and curious to get to know a new face, but after a while I wanted one of my increasingly regular feeds, so Mum and I retired to the bedroom to do the necessary, after which it was time for an afternoon walk.

We found a new route, which took us through a couple of quiet alleyways and parks and was just about the perfect length: I was quiet and happy the whole way, and Mum was also able to do it without feeling tired, so that was just about ideal. When we came back, we had a little chat with the family who live on the ground floor…well, Mum and I did, as Dad was busy taking the pram upstairs and the rubbish downstairs.

This evening I had the first group call with the Lovetts on Skype. Granddad Mervyn and Auntie Sophie were very pleased to see me at the same time; I think it’s something we’ll do regularly from now.

Today I’m three weeks old! Even though this is a considerable milestone, there’s only one place to start. Today was mainly notable for the fact that I received my first letter from officialdom: not a card from a friend, a present from a relative or anything as pleasant, rather a letter, with a typed address, addressed to me personally.

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Jutta came again, and said all is fine: I was praised for being good at feeding. They also talked about vaccination and which doctor I should see.

Frau Carl, our next-door neighbour, invited us for tea next week. Things are so busy these days I’m not sure when we’ll find the time, but I’m sure we’ll manage it somehow!

Mum and I went out with the pram for the first time on our own today: we bought fruit and veg and had a walk. Dad even started to worry about us a little bit, and was relieved when we came back after more than half an hour.

I slept all afternoon, during which time Mum enrolled us for a PEKiP baby massage course: in addition to this, Dad and I will have swimming lessons when I’m three months old, and Lotte and Hannes will buy me a cool swimsuit for this big event, about which they’re almost as excited as Dad and I!

In the afternoon we went to Vanille and Marille again, and although we weren’t out for very long, I suddenly got very hungry on the way back, so I persuaded Mum and Dad to stop in a park on the way back for my first outside feed: I drank for about twenty minutes.

I felt a bit funny when we got back, and I couldn’t decide if I wanted to eat or sleep: I eventually plumped for the latter at about 8pm, and slept till about 1am.

Dad slept in my room tonight: he wanted to be as rested as possible for his first day back at work, so Mum and I had the main bedroom to ourselves for the first time.

Am trying out some of Dad’s gestures (according to Mum) during feeding, specifically raising a middle finger like a rebel: Dad sometimes uses his middle finger to gesture with, which is contrary to the convention of using one’s index finger for this role. Mum says that traditionally a single middle finger is used to convey another message, but he insists that “it’s only a finger” and claims not to understand what the fuss is about. I don’t know why I do it too, though; maybe it’s all in the genes?

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Jutta came round again, and again told us that I was one of the most relaxed babies she’d seen: this is good news for Mum and Dad, I’m sure, but it’s just my nature: what’s the point of making a fuss about nothing? I only cry when something’s wrong, and when Mum or Dad (let’s be honest, usually Mum) makes it better I stop straight away.

I’m expanding my vocal range some more, with a penchant for very high-pitched, almost mournful noises, especially (says Mum) when I’m dreaming. I practised more of these today, and expanded my repertoire considerably as I lay on the bed with Dad and dreamed the afternoon away.

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In fact, staying on that subject, it’s time to address an especially peculiar aspect of my daily ablutions: namely, what Mum and Dad refer to in a disconcertingly natural way as “Poo Songs”, although I’m not at all sure there’s anything natural about them.

Essentially, Mum and Dad often feel I need a bit of encouragement to do what comes naturally so, when my nappy is being changed, they often give me as much as they can to complete my business in the open air, so to speak. To that end, Dad, with Mum’s full backing, I feel I should point out, has taken to adapting the words of popular recordings to incorporate what can only be described as a recurring faecal theme: these include, but are not limited to: “It’s My Party (And I’ll Poo If I Want To), “Can You Feel The Poo Tonight”, “Poo Colours”, and the classic, “Pooing Around”.

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Jutta visited again today, and I went in the papoose for the first time. Mum (of course) was the one who practised it first. I say of course because firstly I much prefer being close to Mum than Dad, and secondly Dad doesn’t trust himself to get it right without a lot of practice: he wants to learn from Mum when she’s an expert on the subject. I feel this is a wise course of action.

We had a walk down to dm to buy some necessary supplies for Mum and me. Mum’s feeling a bit stronger now, and likes to walk as much as she can: she says she wants to get back to the shape she was in before the birth as soon as possible.

While feeding, and to Dad’s considerable amusement, I simultaneously did a poo. Eating and cacking at the same time is something I enjoy doing at the moment, and, as Dad never tires of pointing out, it’s not something that you can get away with for very long in life, so you may as well do it while you can.

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While I was having my breakfast this morning Dad tried to have his too, but then he realised he hadn’t bought it from the supermarket when he went shopping the day before. He always says he takes care of us first and then thinks about himself: I see what he means! Still, Mum takes such good care of me at home, so it’s only fair that he takes good care of us both by going outside, downstairs, to the kitchen, to the bathroom, and anywhere else we need him to. He always says he’s a big strong man, so it should be very easy for him, right?

Had my first bath with Mum and Dad (consecutively) in the afternoon, and enjoyed it a great deal! Dad weighed me again, and said I’d gone up to 4kg! I know I’ve been feeding a lot recently, but that certainly counts as concrete evidence of my increased appetite.

In the evening we Skyped again, with Granddad Mervyn (short) and Auntie Sophie (long). I can’t wait to meet them for the first time in person, and I know they both can’t either. This coming weekend we’ll try to call three-way for the first time.

A quiet day on the whole for the end of my second week, till the evening anyway. Fed and slept a lot, then Ute and Joachim, who live in Mum’s old building, came round to see me for the first time!

They brought homemade dinner: they dished up in our kitchen and then served to Mum and Dad in the dining room, which doubles as Mum’s office. However, it all smelled so utterly wonderful that I demanded to have the adult option as well, which resulted in my eating at the grown-ups’ table again. I could get used to this!

A new month begins, my first full one: I celebrated by waking Mum at 1am for a 2-hour feed: I decided I wanted to see the new month as early as possible: so many new experiences to have, and so little time!

Dad wasn’t in the best mood today, because he went to two governmental departments to drop off various forms: he says he’s never liked interacting with any kind of officialdom, let alone the German version. Still, when he came back he was OK, if a little hot and bothered.

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