Daddy has to go back to America (whatever that is) to see Granny (whoever she is) for a couple of weeks (like, my whole life!) so I’m taking Mumma (the one with the floppy face) up to Nana (the comfy one!) and Papa’s (the big handed guy) house. Me and my brother Spike (the big loud blonde one) can get spoilt to smithereens until Daddy comes back home (I’m pretty sure that’s the joint in Fitzroy with all the stairs).
STATS
I’m weighing in at a respectable 3600g – 7lb 9oz (1lb 1oz up from my birth weight). 50.6cm long (I’ll be out of those 0000 clothes in NO time!) and my head is filling up with stuff – to make room, it’s 37cm around now. Looks like I’ll catch up with my scone headed brother and Daddy after all!
I’m starting to get niggly between 5pm – 11pm, just to keep everyone on their toes you understand. I usually cry cause I’m hungry, wet, hungry or hungry. I’m hungry a LOT. Staying at Nana and Papa’s means there’ll be plenty of hands to help feed me.
And trust me, when I decide it’s Feed Time, it’s gonna take ALL hands on deck. A little trick my brother may or may not have taught me… I’ll never tell. I’m no snitch! Nevah!
Mumma is slowly getting better and we talk to Daddy every day – thank you Skype (whatever you are) and we’re all happy Granny Allie is moving into a new place. We hope she likes it too.
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Morrison is very much a”second baby” – we don’t have charts and routines and spreadsheets. He just gets fed when he bellows for it (frequently) changed when he’s wet/or dirty (also falls under the category, Frequente). Instead we have “when did I feed him last?” conversations and he is not under excruciating respiration surveillance heh This kid has it totally under control. Having said that… if he was born first, he would have been an only child. Spike definitely lulled us into a false sense of, “Oh this baby shit is EASY!” We don’t call him DemandMo for nothing.
Lucky he’s so deliciously perfect.
Mo’s Mum xxoo