Another peaceful day after feeding big yesterday: we slept through again till five or so. After a short feed we slept a while longer. Jutta came round at 9.30am, and said Mum was doing just fine. She was happy to see that the rest of my umbilical cord had fallen off, and to hear that I’ve been sleeping well at night…
Then Lotte and Hannes went to a museum, and Pippa, her boy, Michael, and his Dad came round, which marked the first time our two whole families have been together. They brought a “cake” made of nappies, which was very funny. You can certainly never have enough nappies, as Mum and Dad have been finding out! Michael was also much more interested in me this time; he stroked my head many times and then even kissed me on the mouth. They spent over an hour with us.
…which reminds me…bodily functions. There’s no pleasant way to put this, so I’ll just say it…they’re messy and confusing! Sometimes I’ll just be lying there, minding my own business, and my body will convulse lightly, as if I’m erupting from the inside, forcing pressure upwards. It goes on for a few minutes and then, as quickly as it started, it goes again. Dad says they’re called hiccups, and when they come he says “Hacup!” in a slightly childish way every time one happens, probably to try to make me feel better about it (I don’t really mind them though, but it’s just weird that they have to happen at all), and then Mum normally says something like “Martin, that’s not how she sounds, it’s more like”…and here she does a high-pitched noise that’s hard to reproduce in written form, but might be written something like “Heek!” After that they usually argue a little bit about whose imitation is more accurate, before carrying on with the next job they have to do: between you and me, dear diary, I think my parents might be a little bit strange!
On an unpleasant note, I must record that I’ve been experiencing a little bit of trouble with, how to put it delicately…number twos. I don’t find it so easy to do them in my nappy, and it sometimes makes me feel uncomfortable if I do. The solution I’ve found is to do a little bit, to make Mum and Dad realise they have to change my nappy, and then let the rest come when my (not so) private parts are exposed to the open air. The most notable example of this so far came today, when Dad was on nappy changing duty for once. (Recently it’s mainly been Mum that’s changed me, a combination of timing and Dad’s lack of ability compared to Mum in that department.)
There was the usual little bit to be found in the nappy when Dad took it off, and Mum had just gone to the toilet herself. I took this as my chance to test Dad’s abilities to the full. Maybe it was because he was holding my legs a little bit higher than usual, maybe I was feeling a bit more relaxed, or maybe the pressure had built up somewhat more than usual; I’m not really sure. What I do know is that the distance, angle and speed I achieved were considerable, and I almost cleared the edge of the nappy and reached the floor, which surprised Dad to say the least. To his credit, he managed to catch the ensuing deluge with only minimal damage to the surrounding area; if projectile pooing were an Olympic event, I could certainly represent England… or maybe Germany?
When I decided to feed just before Mum was due to have dinner, she decided to take me with her to the table…so I had my dinner at the dinner table for the first time today, albeit not the same meal as everyone else. Progress!
Talking of which, I’ve made one improvement Mum’s very happy with recently: I don’t bite the breast that feeds me any longer. It was just a phase I was going through, it seems, and I’ve just gone off the whole idea.
After dinner I had my first Skype call with Auntie Sophie, Dad’s sister. She was very happy to lay eyes on me at last, and said I was amazing! High praise, but all I’ve really achieved at the moment is being born: I hope to do lots of things to make my family proud later in life!
