Ahglooba!

I am terribly sorry, my dears. Such a long time since my last post :-( I really enjoyed reading your lovely comments and they certainly helped to cheer up some very tiring days and quite a number of sleepless nights. Life with an 8-week-old is certainly challenging, mostly because a lot of it takes place with afore-mentioned 8-week-old in your arms. They don't like being parted from their parents, did I mention that? And as typing is generally a two-handed job, it can be quite difficult to blog.

But Baby G is starting to charm us with his antics. Yesterday morning I passed by my bed, where Baby G was getting some shut-eye (on a side note: I never, ever wanted to co-sleep. Never. But the baby had other ideas. He sleeps best with a fistful of boob and his feet tucked under the flap of fat left when he vacated the premises a month ago. I sleep curled around him like a crescent moon, one arm stretched out above his head, the soles of his feet resting on my thighs. Before he was born, I tossed and turned in bed about three dozen times a night; since his birth I sleep like a statue, waking in the morning with stiff limbs and scratched bosoms.) In any case, the child was asleep with one arm up the air, a tiny fist clenched. Startled, I realised he was doing the Black Panthers' salute. While I watched him, his tiny body did a Riverdance of flailing limbs and resettled into something equally uncomfortable-looking but much less political.

Motherhood. Ahhh.
Right now, I'm at the point where I'm pressing my nose up against the windowpanes, watching people outside in the fresh air, doing exciting things like going for a walk or buying bread. Simply leaving the house involves a lot of planning - I have to get the baby in an Ahglooba period. Yes, that's right: we've started to speak his language. We have two words so far: Nnnnngah, which expresses general displeasure - you know, when you decide you're hungry but food doesn't appear magically in front of you straightaway (this works best if you beat someone's chest while you're howling "Nnnnngah! Nnnnnnnnnnnngah!" And maybe do some kicking, too.) Ahgloobah is a general sound of contentment, doled out to parents deperately trying to please you. Both words are quite excellent. Missed the bus? Nnnnngah! About to tuck in to a cup of hot tea with a chocolate biscuit? Ahglooba! It's great fun. And, considering that the little chap will have to grow up bilingually, we're probably doing irreparable damage to his language-learning skills. Oopsie.

Anyway, here's a gratuitous baby picture for the first Advent Sunday. What does one have a baby for, if not to dress up in ridiculous holiday hats? (Note the look of pained tolerance in his eyes. Poor child.)

"Help! Help! Am being held captive by lunatics! Help!"