While attempting to eat my breakfast, consisting of soggy cornflakes and cold tea, I thought about starting up blogging again. I hope to make this a lighthearted account of the joys and struggles of being a new parent.
T is now 3 1/2 months old, and starting to get into everything. If he can get hold of it, it goes in his mouth. I have also, rather stupidly, taught him to blow raspberries. He can’t manage it with his tongue out yet, but he purses his lips, makes a rasping sound and spits everywhere. He did it all day yesterday and started as soon as he woke up this morning. It is still funny and cute, like when we went out in the car yesterday and I turned down the radio to listen to a contented, raspberry-blowing baby in the back seat. I have a feeling it won’t be funny and cute forever though.
So back to my breakfast. After carefully spooning mouthfuls of cornflakes and milk to my mouth from a bowl placed at arms length, over a contentedly nursing baby, dripping the odd spot of milk as I went, he finished his breakfast so I sat him on my knee and continued with my breakfast. I would pull the bowl towards me, spoon up a mouthful of limp cornflakes and transfer them to my mouth, while using the ‘spare’ hand (you never have a spare hand with a baby around!) to stop him grabbing my bowl. On this occasion he outsmarted me, tipping the bowl and it’s contents towards himself while merrily spitting in it. 1-0 to the tiny human, and it’s only 10am!