Now we play

Last week I took the girl to a playgroup at the local leisure centre. L had taken her there once before, and this was my turn to take the girl for a bit of early morning public play before heading off to work.

The wee one is still partly on east coast time, so I had to wake her before getting out of the house. I suspect that's why she didn't really seemed to enjoy herself. She spent almost the whole time staring at the other children. Very little excited her. She'd grudgingly accept walking around, playing with balls, or attempting to share with other kids. For the most part she'd just sit and take in the environment.

The play time is about 45 minute long and is for up to 15 age 5 and unders. I think there were about a dozen kinds, mostly between 1 and 2. It was free play on soft platforms and shapes or in a ball pit. Followed by about 10 minutes of singing. Mostly songs I did not know. Or songs I couldn't do the hand motions to (There's a hand gesture for …washed the spider out…?).

I spent most of the time teaching the lass how to safely get off of platforms. She was doing quite well. Until she fell over while I was putting on my shoes at the end. Great. Always fun to be the incompetent parent who has to console his crying child for getting her hurt while he wasn't looking. At least my embarrassment was reduced since most people had left by then.

I was pleasantly surprised the thing wasn't as mothercentric as I was expecting. There were two other fathers there. There was nothing inherent in any of the play or facilities that precluded a father taking their child. The only problem was the mensroom with the changing table was locked and the normal mensroom was a changing room with showers – too wet and dirty to change the girl in. But there was a reasonable changing room upstairs that was clean and free. The only problem was it had no toilet, so I could not EC the girl.

Note to all restroom designers. Always put a toilet in the room with the changing table. It's good to have a clean place to put the baby to reclothe them after they go to the loo.

I'll likely go again. At least a few more times and see if the girl actually takes a liking toward it. I'm sure she'd have fun if she were more awake for it. We'll just have to wait and see.

Yesterday I took the girl to the local park. After her accident the other day, I was very conservative on the play. Don't play there, you'll get sand in your wound, We can't play on that, you might hit your head and reopen your wound. She did enjoy the swing and the seesaw. Though on the seesaw, I was holding on to one leg the whole time. I was no fun at all. I'm hoping the paranoia ends soon.

Falling down

The girl had her first A&E trip on Saturday. A momentary flicker in her stair climbing skills sent her down 3 or 4 steps and headfirst into a bookcase. I was in the nursery at the time when I heard the crash and various screamings. I ran out to find L holding the girl, her face covered with blood.

We took her to the bathroom to clean her up. All I could find were nappy liners to wipe away the blood. I was relieved to find what looked to be a flap of skin was actually the blood soaked on her eyebrow. Then L uncovered the actual wound – a 2cm vertical gash in the middle of her forehead. Again, a bit of a relief since a cut forehead I could deal with. L didn't see it that way and started to panic more since we clearly had to get to hospital. She suggested we call 999. I hesitated for bit, but the girl seemed to be getting worse.

After that is a blur. I remember talking to someone on the phone, and the girl starting to go into shock and droopy eyed while shaking, I don't recall what order things happened.

L sat on the toilet seat holding the baby's forehead wound shut with her hand, while trying to keep the girl still. I went downstairs to open the front door for the paramedics when they'd come. The doorbell wasn't working and I didn't want to miss them. Then I went back upstairs when I saw the drops of blood all over the floor. I don't know what part of my brain took over, but I used some of the remaining nappy liners to clean up trail of blood from the bookcase to the bathroom.

The paramedics arrived after about 10 minutes.
By this point, her shaking had stopped, and she seemed more alert. Less crying and more wriggling, making it harder to hold the bandage. Fortunately, most of the bleeding had slowed to a mild ooze.

The wee one clearly decided, Oh, company, stopped crying and started charming the paramedics. First thing, they taped a bandage to her head. Then many tests were given, checking this vital and that. The girl was clearly quite interested in what was going on. Playing with the monitors and lights when the let her.

Then they suggested we get shoes and phones and keys and get in the ambulance to go to hospital. I remembered enough to get the nappy bag, the sling and my travel card for when I had to get home afterwards.

I really should have brought a jumper. It got cold in the evening.

On the trip to hospital the wee one calmly played with the blood oxygen monitor, nary a peep. In fact, she'd not cried since the EMTs got to our place. All day, the EMTs and nurses and doctor kept saying how if they did x she would cry. She didn't not when they took her vitals, not when they cleaned the wound, not when they glued it shut. I'm not sure if that means if she's hardcore and can take it, or is just well dispositioned.

After being seen by the triage nurse and having the girl's vitals taken, we sat in the waiting room. There were 4 other children ahead of us. L first used the downtime to go to the washroom and get all the blood off of her. Then she fed the girl. That's when the wee one started crying. Turns out she'd bit her tongue in the fall, and it was still bleeding.

We got seen about 2 hours after the fall. The doctor came in, looked at her and said a nurse would glue her wound together. And rather than explain anything to us, he said we'd be given a So your baby had a headwound pamphlet on the way out.

Ouch!

After he left, a nurse comes in and says she's going to get the glue and stuff to clean her head, and that she wanted to take the child with her. I was a bit shocked that they though that it would be ok for someone I'd never seen before to come in the room and take my child away. I mean she was dressed as a nurse, but anyone could do that.

So I let her take the girl, but followed her, and was relieved when everyone at the nurse station said hello to her as she passed. There was no actual need to take the girl, so I really wonder why the nurse wanted her with while she rifled through the storeroom. Perhaps for a bit of a cuddle? I'm guessing so the baby got used to her before she did potentially painful things to her. I have no idea. But that was the part of the process that disturbed me most.

Anyway, the nurse cleaned her wound and applied the glue. It looked like Krazy Glue. Just a thin clear liquid that dried pretty much instantly. Given how well Krazy Glue bonds skin, I'm not surprised the finally came up a medical equivalent. They say it shouldn't scar, but I'm dubious. The cut looks huge on her forehead. Then again, when I hold my arm next to her and imagine the cut on my arm, I'd probably just put a big plaster on it.

We were out of hospital and back home just over 3 hours past the initial accident. So it all went pretty fast (we took the bus home, and were rather cold from the lack of forethought to bring jumpers). Ever since I've been treating the child very carefully. Avoiding having anything touch her forehead or anything get near her head that she could bump. That's going to be hard. I just want to keep her safe until the cut heals.

We've really got to come up with a better solution for how to get the girl to hospital. I'm not going to buy a car for the occasional emergency journey. A minicab probably wouldn't take someone screaming or bleeding. Maybe something like zip car? The bus is not an option. There's a direct bus to one hospital, bus it's far and takes 50 min. The closest hospital has no good way to get there. It's only served by busses that come every 15-20 minutes. I'm not going to take a wounded child on a bus. What do other people do?

Now we are different

This is not the same girl went on holiday with two weeks ago.

We came back a few days ago. Over the period we were gone the wee one has levelled up quite a bit.

She's now producing a stream of babble. Before she could say a few syllables, sometimes in combination. Now I'm pretty sure she's saying what she thinks are words. Every now and then she'll repeat something back someone says to her. That's the best part – not necessarily her understanding, but her clearly interacting.

She's learned to point. Finally my point vs poke training has come to fruition. She'll point at something of note and say Dat!, which I can only assume means What is that?So I always answer her with That's a painting or That's a mirror or That's toilet paper.

She gotten lots of other hand movements. She was waving before we left. She's regressed a bit on that, but she's started waving again a couple of days ago. She also enjoys shaking hands. At least she'll stick out her and and let you shake it. She'll also put her hands on her hips. I can't tell if it it's intentional, but she often has a bit of a stern look about her when she does it.

Stairs. She can go up and down stairs now. All the shallower carpeted stairs at her grandparents' and my uncle's places really helped. She's since been able to go up an entire flight of steep wooden stairs at our place. She's much slower and hesitant in going downstairs. It's basically, sit on the stair facing out, dangling her feet over the edge until she's practically standing on the step below. Then she stands on the stairs below, holding on to the bannister.

She's not quite standing. Well, she doesn't think she can stand. She can stand holding on to things, or leaning against something. But she'll only stand unsupported for a few seconds before she realises and sits down. But a controlled sit, which is good.

She still can't walk on her own, but she walks quite well when holding hands. Or using a walker. Or box. Or anything draggable that's big enough to lean against. She's far more comfortable with it than when I walked her through her first queue at the start of the holiday.

All this progress seems to have come at a price. She's sleeping very lightly now. It seems like any movement near her will wake her up. She will wake up without crying, sometimes, which is nice. But she's still awake and really hard to get back to sleep.

She's also not eating much. she'll breastfeed like a champ, but she's hardly eating any solid food we put before her. Even roast mushrooms, her heretofore favourite, are summarily tossed on the floor.

I'm hoping that goes away soon and we can get her to bed and stay asleep without too much effort. I've been a bit dozy in the brain the past couple of days at work.

In other news, I found an article online which explains the whole "fine with just one child" thing far better than I did the other day. Must be something in the air to cause both of us to post the same thought at the same time.

Now we are flying again

We're now on the wee lass's second intercontinental trip. At 10 months she's far far more active than she was at 3 months. Which makes travel much harder. No downtime at all for us. I got maybe 10 min of sleep on the flight – all of which was on the runway.

The first experiment was taking the tube to Heathrow. We've been hiring cars to the airport so far. But that was getting expensive. At some point we had to try it, so we did. We took the bus to the Piccadilly line, and sat and sat and sat. Part of the experiment was travelling with no pram or car seat. I carried the girl in the Baby Bjorn, and L did the bulk of the heavy lifting of the two bags.

I have to say, OMG, that was a success. Everything was easier. Getting to the airport, walking around the airport, going through security, not checking the pram at the gate. Everything. Everything was easier. If I can get away with it, we're not air travelling with a pram again.

Rush hour was over when we got on, but the car was still pretty full. I headed toward an empty seat, but L forced a man sitting in the "give this up" seat to get up. My husband needs this seat. Perfectly in character for her, considering she did that when she was pregnant. But not truly necessary since there was an empty seat.

The car emptied out just past central London, and we had a long but uneventful trip. I listened to podcasts, while the baby slept and L played games on her phone. That was the last relaxing moment we had for a while.

Our plan was to go to Boston. L's family wanted to see us. We did the maths and it turns out to be cheaper to fly to DC and back for a few days, than the equivalent in hotel fees for everyone. So a month after getting the tickets to Boston we bought an internal flight from Boston to DC. We got the last flight of the day we could, with 2 1/2 hours for getting through passport control, customs, check in and so on.

Checking into a flight with a baby is hassle because you can't check in in advance. So we take our chances that we'll even sit next to each other (I bought my ticket separately), let alone get a "sky cot" for the lass. In between checking in and bag drop, I take the girl to the loo. The baby changing rooms at Heathrow do not work so well with EC. No toilet, just a changing mat, sink and very very full rubbish bins. Fortunately we brought the portable seat which acts as a loo in a pinch. Which, for the first time for me, she used. So with that success behind me, I head back to L, still in the queue, next to someone with an identical nappy bag – which was a bit of a surprise since ours was gift from my mum, bought in the US.

Airport security was soooo much easier without the pram. I just walked through with the baby still attached. Everything went off without a hitch, including lunch, boarding and so on. We even had the middle row of four seats to ourselves. The pilot came on to say we may be able to take off early too. But instead, we sat on the runway for an hour and a half while some engineering issue was being resolved. Eventually they told us to get off the plane, and get on a new one which would be ready in two hours. Our Boston to DC transfer was 2 1/2 hours. At this point we knew we'd be at least 3 1/2 hours late. Bugger.

I was very wary of taking Virgin again after they broke our pram on the last flight we took with them. We spoke to Virgin at the desk, who said Not our problem, you bought the other tickets separately. We spoke to US Air who said Sure, we'll change your flight to tomorrow, but it's up to Virgin to pay for your hotel. We spoke to Virgin on the phone, and they said It's up to the people at the desk, but they should give you a hotel voucher. We spoke to the travel insurance emergency line and they said It's after 5 (it was 5:07), call back on Monday. Can you at least tell me what, if anything, is covered? Nope. Call back Monday. Good luck. Back to the Virgin desk for us, No hotel for you, really. Full Stop. they tell us.

On, the bright side, on the way back to the desk there was a big queue, but it was moving at a moderate pace. So I took out the lass and walked her through the queue. It was going just fast enough for her to keep us. Her first queue!

So, we qet on the new plane in bit of a cranky mood. Adding to the annoyance was the fact that there were people sitting in the row next to us now. However, it wasn't such a bad thing – they were there for the other sky cot. They were travelling with an 11 month old girl. We did the usual introduction of the children, and giving their ages. This time after half a minute I remembered to add Oh, and I'm Bob and this is L.

I'm trying to hard to remember this part of introductions. Almost always I meet other parents and come away knowing their child's name, but almost never do we exchange adult names.

At one point the two little girls sat next to each other and tried holding hands (the best they could do is hold wrists) which was really cute. Another cute point was when L was holding our child on my left, and the other girl was on my right. I announced I'm surrounded by baby toes! to the amusement of the rest of the row.

Our girl just would not sleep in the sky cot. Every attempt L made to put her in would wake her up crying. So she eventually just held the sleeping girl in her arms. After a few hours I tried my luck. Success. Except ten minutes later when the other girl started crying which woke ours, crying.

In the end, L and I got maybe 20 minutes of sleep between us. The girl got about 4 hours. The toilets were just small enough that she couldn't wriggle too far, but large enough I could put her on the loo without raising the changing table. she loved the air jet. It distracted her and she played with it.

Passport control and customs were fast and easy to get through. We were out by 9:30 or so. We could have made the 2nd flight if we'd arrived a couple hours earlier. I was hoping the 2nd flight was delayed enough we'd make it, but no. It left on time.

We went up to the Virgin making-connections person just past customs, explained the situation, and he said, Ok, we'll get you a hotel, but you'll have to go to the US Air desk at Terminal B to sort out a replacement flight in the morning. Just sit here for a few minutes while I do the paperwork. Okaaaay. Why they couldn't do that in the first place is beyond me. But I'm not complaining. Literally. This saved me the effort of a huge scathing letter I was going to write to them about their drop in quality of customer service.

We went out to catch the shuttle to terminal B. No shuttle in sight. The sign said it was 0.3 miles, so we decided that since we still had the trolley for the luggage, and the girl was safely in the Baby Bjorn, we'd just walk it.

Bit of a mistake there. The airport is a big U shape. And the route through from E to B, walking inside the airport is not direct. Two notable things. First, there's the rocking chairs in terminal C. The other is the really nice baby changing facilities in terminal D. Enough room for both adults and the luggage. A huge bin which was easy to get waste into, and wasn't full (like in Heathrow), a good size changing table and a toilet, so we could EC the lass. Which was good, since she was ready to go by that point.

We finally got to terminal B, which was itself a big U shape – we had to trek through the car park to bypass the bulk of the walk. I was terrified that they'd be closed, but at the far end of the US Air area was one open desk with a live person. We wearily marched up to him and explained ourselves. He told us that when they built this airport, they must have done huge amounts of research on airport design so they could build the worst possible layout that could fit in the area. We certainly agreed. He also told us that the only reason he was still there is that there was a delayed flight to Buffalo still to come, and if it were on time, the desk would have been closed. Scary bit of luck for us.

He cheerfully and immediately put us on the next flight at 6am (ick) and were done. He told us how to get to the hotel and we were on our way. Via terminal A – so we'd walked through the entire airport by the time we were done.

The hotel is attached to the airport. We found ourselves suddenly in the conference centre in the hotel still pushing the luggage trolley we got when we picked up our bags. This did not work at all well on the carpet. So we cheekily abandoned it and went off in search of the lobby. On check-in we found we also had $100 of food vouchers. Which was good, since we were starving, and room service in the US is hideously over-priced. We got to our room at 10:57. L found the room service menu which said it ended at 11. A mad selection of food and a panicked attempt to figure out the room phone followed, but we got the order in on time.

They gave us a travel cot for the lass, but she did not take to it at all. We had to be up at 3:40, so cosleeping was the far better option than trying to convince the child to use the cot. We collapsed on the bed and were up again far too soon.

This time we took the shuttle to the airport. A quick check in and baggage check and we were off to the security queue. They saw the girl and sent us through the business-class queue, which was nice. I had to take off my shoes, but the baby could stay attached. They took me aside for a hand check, at which I joked, Whose hands? We have four of them before I panicked and realised you do not joke with airport security. But the woman laughed and passed me on to someone who brushed over my hands with a magical chemical-sensing wand. Whatever it checked for, I did not have, so all was well. I still wonder if that's standard with people carrying babies, or it was random? Were they checking for baby poop and sudocrem?

There were no baby changing rooms in terminal B, so we had to make do with L changing her in the ladies'.

The puddlejumper we got on to DC was small, but at least we sat next to each other. No sky cot. Not even a baby seatbelt. We just held on to the kid during takeoff and landing. We took turns walking the lass up and down the aisle during the flight, so she'd not get restless and maybe use up some of her energy. I passed person after person head down and asleep on their tray. One of the stewardesses was friendly and chatty, which helped keep me awake enough to survive the flight.

At the end, we landed early, breezed out of the airport and spent 1/2 an hour trying to get the car seat fitted in L's sister's car. The baby cried the whole car ride, and would only be settled by being sung French lullabies by L and her sister. She finally fell asleep two minutes from the house.

.

The wife's cycle has started up again. It wasn't nearly has dramatic as what I'd read on various blogs. It was more Hey. I'm back. Just popped in to say hello.

The most annoying thing (for me at least) is the irregularity of it. It's weird after almost two years of this baby-growing process to have pregnancy scares again. There's just no way to know if it's late or there's a bun in the oven. It's not like the usual "sore breasts" sign works when you're already breastfeeding.

For the record, there is no bun.

The way I like to look at it, we've hit perfection with this girl. I don't need another child. My biological clock is content with what we have – which I'm rather grateful for.

Another, more cynical way to look at it is that, thinking back at all the stages we've gone through, to be honest I'm not that interested in doing it again. I'm happy with this girl and it's "cured" that yearning need I felt before. Somehow, with the biological clock out of the way, any thoughts of new babies always end up in logicland, where they prove to be impractical. I don't want to have to think of another set of names, or find a house with enough space for another person, or worry about cots and clothes and mediate arguments and worry about being hyper-fair.

It's hard to describe without sounding offensive to by daughter or just generally hypocritical. I'll just say she completes our family well and leave it at that.

Food

Dining is starting to settle down a bit. We're almost at a point I can live with. She eats with us, but she eats her own food. For L and I, I make the usual grown-up food. For the little one I usually roast some vegetables. No spices, just roasted at low temperature (125-150°C) for a few hours. I start the oven when I start dinner. Chop some combination of mushrooms (She really likes the mushrooms), onions, peppers, aubergines, celery, potatoes or whatever else we have at hand. Put it in a dish and take it out after we're done eating. Put it in the fridge, then dole it out over the next few days.

I have to say, the stuff tastes brilliant. I've never really had the patience for roast veg for meals before, but this works really well, since it's so little work and prepped in advance. It's hard for me to not pick at the food meant for her. Though I draw the line at not taking food from her tray.

My only concern is that it really does taste better on the day it's cooked. But it does still taste ok after being refrigerated a few days.

We feed her by putting a selection of stuff on her tray,and letting her pick it up. She's done when she doesn't try to eat anything new we put down.

Breakfast is less exciting – sliced fruits: Banana, orange, apple. Whatever else we have around – carrots, tomatoes. I do need to start having a more consistent set of breakfast foods around. Like toast.

We used to try to put her to sleep before dinner. At first she'd be in the moses basket we kept in the dining room. She'd often sleep for the first 10 minutes of dinner, then start crying. One of us would gulp down dinner and settle her, while the other would eat. Usually it'd end up with L feeding her.

After a while she'd sleep through dinner. She graduated to sleeping in her own cot. We'd aim a video phone at her and watch her over skype on the laptop. This often degraded to one of us bolting downstairs to collect the crying girl, bringing her upstairs til she was calm again.

After 6 months had passed we started baby-led weaning. Which started off very slowly. She'd take the stuff, put it in her mouth. Chew, sometimes completely masticating it. Then it'd just fall out on the tray of her high chair. I started with simple easy to grab food like carrot sticks, celery, sliced peppers and cucumber. It certainly helped her master grabbing things. She was holding between thumb and index finger quite deftly. But that was pretty much all she got out of it. This went on for a couple of months. It seemed any food she'd ingest was by accident.

It was really cute at first. She'd make a horrible face whenever she was introduced to a new food. This stopped pretty quickly, and the only food she's really reacted too since was a mushroom from a thai green curry. I suspect it was too hot for her. I recently tried feeding her a chunk of lemon (seeds removed) to see if she'd replicate the looks in the babies tasting lemon for the first time video. She ate it right up. Yum.

We got to the point where we were about to give up the baby-led weaning. We decided to feed her puree one meal a day.

Day one worked. She at an entire meal.

Day two, she started to be dubious about the puree.

At day 3 she was refusing the puree entirely. And eating solids. It's like she realised that if she did not get on with eating the real food we give her, she'd have nothing but this mush forever. Which, in fact, was more or less true. Or perhaps she finally figured out how to swallow. Which seems more true, but doesn't sound as nice.

So what's next? At some point we need to start feeding her more grown-up food. I'd like to be able to only have to make one meal. I also need to get more D and iron in her diet – since she's not getting much from milk.

The real downside here is the output. Her stool really smells bad now. And is much less pleasant to clean up. She's defecating far less now, and she's using the loo for most of it. But that just makes the dirty misses even harder to deal with.

Taking risks

I kind of envy the child's tenacity. She learns how to do things by watching and trying. When she tries she really does try. She'll spend ages at something she wants to do. Going over it again and again til she gets it. She takes risks I'd not be at all comfortable with. Like climbing stairs. The steps are up to her waist. She lifts a leg to the next step, bending sideways to get her knee high enough to plant solidly on the step. She uses that and the bannister on the opposite side to pull herself up. We have hard wood floors. If she falls, it will hurt. But she tries anyway.

A week ago she climbed up slowly with much grunting. Now she can do 3 steps, one after the other, in under a minute.

I can't remember where I came across this, but I recall scientists saying that children and teenager's brains are hardwired to take risks. That might very well be true, but I think the reason in this case is simpler than that.

Her entire life, all she's known is that whenever she fails and hurts herself, someone quickly scoops her up, cuddles and kisses her. Holding her telling her how good a try she made and how much they love her. With such rewards for failure, I can see why puts so much effort into what she does.

I wish I could find some way for risk taking to be so rewarding.