She is my own personal jack in the box.
Unfortunately, she doesn't entirely approve.
Weaning: Mission Accomplished?
When babies are 4-6 months, you hear a lot about weaning. In fact, it's almost all you hear about. And so the process begins. But when does it end? When can you - or do you - say your child is officially weaned?
Emily's food day goes something like this.
Breakfast
Bowl of porridge/Cheerios/Oats bar
Cup of milk
A biscuit
Snack (only if it looks like lunch will be late, for eg if we are out)
Fruit/Breadstick
Lunch
Could be any of the following, amongst others:
Fried/scrambled egg on toast with beans
Peanut butter sandwich
Froga tat-Tarja
Mini Pizza
Fish Fingers and Potatoes
Jacket Potato with tuna or chicken filling
Followed by fruit as dessert
Snack
Breadstick/Fruit/Biscuit
Dinner
Whatever we're eating!
Followed by a yoghurt as dessert and/or some fruit
Throughout the day she'll drink approximately two bottles of water, and has 8oz of milk at bedtime.*
She will sit through a meal, eat with a fork off a plate or bowl, and drink out of an open cup. I know she is capable of eating with a spoon too but I am not yet brave enough to let her eat a whole meal with one, therefore she'll usually happily eat with her hands.
Save for that bedtime bottle, which I'm happy for her to keep having for as long as she pleases (she's given clear enough signals when it was time to drop her other daytime bottles), I consider her weaned. But I wondered, is there actually an end to the process? When is the point a child is considered "weaned"?
* Three days later, Emily dropped her bedtime bottle too. I think I can safely say she's now weaned. (I'm a bit sad!)
Emily's food day goes something like this.
Breakfast
Bowl of porridge/Cheerios/Oats bar
Cup of milk
A biscuit
Snack (only if it looks like lunch will be late, for eg if we are out)
Fruit/Breadstick
Lunch
Could be any of the following, amongst others:
Fried/scrambled egg on toast with beans
Peanut butter sandwich
Froga tat-Tarja
Mini Pizza
Fish Fingers and Potatoes
Jacket Potato with tuna or chicken filling
Followed by fruit as dessert
Snack
Breadstick/Fruit/Biscuit
Dinner
Whatever we're eating!
Followed by a yoghurt as dessert and/or some fruit
Throughout the day she'll drink approximately two bottles of water, and has 8oz of milk at bedtime.*
She will sit through a meal, eat with a fork off a plate or bowl, and drink out of an open cup. I know she is capable of eating with a spoon too but I am not yet brave enough to let her eat a whole meal with one, therefore she'll usually happily eat with her hands.
Save for that bedtime bottle, which I'm happy for her to keep having for as long as she pleases (she's given clear enough signals when it was time to drop her other daytime bottles), I consider her weaned. But I wondered, is there actually an end to the process? When is the point a child is considered "weaned"?
* Three days later, Emily dropped her bedtime bottle too. I think I can safely say she's now weaned. (I'm a bit sad!)
In the Sunshine
Over the last few glorious days of sunshine, we have counted windows, watched birds, waved to aeroplanes, saw lots of use of the sign for "fun", practiced walking alone (Emily, mostly), and we had special treat lunches on the sofa watching Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. I got lots of outdoor reading done, hung laundry outside, drank rather too much wine, and generally chilled out. We watched the Eurovision, caught up with a good friend, planned some more home projects, enjoyed David and tried to support him while he did his triathlon (but mostly baked in the sun).
In other news, Emily and "Mr Fan" seem to have reached an agreement. He now gets a kiss good night (!) and is allowed to stay the night. Phew!
The Heat
Summer has finally made it to Kent. As of yesterday, we've been basking in the sun and basically living in the garden. Today we had the paddling pool out (painstakingly filled with buckets of water) and friends over. Tomorrow we hope for more of the same. The kids got to show off new swimwear and us grown-ups tried to alter our clothing to ensure "a good tan."
Unfortunately the heat also comes with a down-side. Emily's new room is one of the hottest in the house. Of course we knew this when we moved her up, but honestly - how many very hot days do we get? We just figured we'd ride through it. Then last night we realised just how hot it gets. 33 degrees, the baby monitor told us. I felt so bad. I took the fan into her room to try and cool it down. She was already in just a vest and nappy and leaving her window open made no difference whatsoever (other than to bring in lots of neighbourhood noise that unsettled her further).
Turns out she is afraid of the fan.
Splendid.
We had to take it back out and once we did, she eventually settled down and slept. I took the fan back in and that brought the room down to 30 degrees. Not anywhere near the 22 degrees she's used to sleeping in but it would have to do. She woke up at 1:30am, saw the fan and freaked out again.
Tonight I tried to trick her into thinking the fan wasn't there by putting it outside her room, directing the air flow into her room. I am guessing she knew it was there anyway. She screamed for almost 1.5 hours straight, refused to be held, refused to be in her cot, until she eventually wore herself out enough to fall asleep.
I feel awful. And I feel like I've let her down. We've moved her into a new room - granted, it's a room she loves to be in - but then to know that she'd have slept so much better through this heatwave in her old room kills me just a little bit.
Bedtime is usually the time of day I look forward to the most. She is playful and affectionate, and excited to be going to sleep. It's a bittersweet feeling - I'm about to get some time to myself which I look forward to, but I also need to say good night to my little daytime companion. These last couple of days though, I have dreaded bedtime. I hate to be thinking that a cold day might make a night in her new room more comfortable, but yes, I find myself wishing away the heat. I guess this is what motherhood does to you.
Unfortunately the heat also comes with a down-side. Emily's new room is one of the hottest in the house. Of course we knew this when we moved her up, but honestly - how many very hot days do we get? We just figured we'd ride through it. Then last night we realised just how hot it gets. 33 degrees, the baby monitor told us. I felt so bad. I took the fan into her room to try and cool it down. She was already in just a vest and nappy and leaving her window open made no difference whatsoever (other than to bring in lots of neighbourhood noise that unsettled her further).
Turns out she is afraid of the fan.
Splendid.
We had to take it back out and once we did, she eventually settled down and slept. I took the fan back in and that brought the room down to 30 degrees. Not anywhere near the 22 degrees she's used to sleeping in but it would have to do. She woke up at 1:30am, saw the fan and freaked out again.
Tonight I tried to trick her into thinking the fan wasn't there by putting it outside her room, directing the air flow into her room. I am guessing she knew it was there anyway. She screamed for almost 1.5 hours straight, refused to be held, refused to be in her cot, until she eventually wore herself out enough to fall asleep.
I feel awful. And I feel like I've let her down. We've moved her into a new room - granted, it's a room she loves to be in - but then to know that she'd have slept so much better through this heatwave in her old room kills me just a little bit.
Bedtime is usually the time of day I look forward to the most. She is playful and affectionate, and excited to be going to sleep. It's a bittersweet feeling - I'm about to get some time to myself which I look forward to, but I also need to say good night to my little daytime companion. These last couple of days though, I have dreaded bedtime. I hate to be thinking that a cold day might make a night in her new room more comfortable, but yes, I find myself wishing away the heat. I guess this is what motherhood does to you.
Choose a Book...
When Emily was younger, I wondered whether we read to her enough. I needn't have worried. She has become the biggest bookworm I've ever encountered in a child her age. Granted, I haven't encountered a vast amount of children her age, but it's still quite impressive.
Her books are all over the house. A full bookshelf in the living room. Some more books on two small shelves by her new wardrobe. More in a basket in her room. Two hidden away in my dresser for when I desperately need to keep her entertained while I'm dressing up. Two more in her changing bag and one hanging off the side of the buggy. Oh and four bath books in the bathroom.
I'm not sure how many books they all amount to, but it's a large amount. A very large amount. I seem unable to walk into a bookshop or browse Amazon without buying yet another book for her. It's good for her, I argue.
Lately she's worked out that she can specifically ask us to read to her.
"Bk," she'll say and sign book.
"Would you like me to read to you?"
She'll nod, carefully. "Yish."
"Choose a book."
She'll scan her bookshelf (we're usually in the living room, which is where her largest book collection lives), while tapping her fingers on the shelf (I kid you not!), and she'll soon pick out her favourites having recognised their spines.
She'll look over to me or her dad and pat her thigh a few times. "Ca, ca!" (Come)
This is what we do to signal to her that she should come over to us and therefore it has become necessary for her to pat her thigh whenever she wants to come to us.
"Come and sit here," I'll tell her, patting my thigh.
She'll eagerly come and sit down beside me or on my lap. "The-tew!" (Thank you)
And we'll read while she follows attentively and lifts the flaps or feels the touchy-feely bits. Once the book is finished, she'll sign finished and the entire process begins again.
Some days, we can go through the entire bookshelf in a day, sometimes twice. And then we'll read more books in her room before she sleeps. I won't pretend I always have the huge amount of patience necessary. Some days are easier than others but since she's started pointing at pictures in books and saying the correct words, I'll admit I'm finding more patience for the whole thing. Seeing the fruit of my labour makes it much easier to appreciate the good it's doing.
This is her living room bookshelf:
My sister couldn't help herself, apparently, and had to organise it in her OCD way a few weeks ago. It lasted all of three minutes.
Emily's current favourites are:
* Baby Faces (Look Baby Books)
* Big Book of Beautiful Babies Board Book
* Moo, Baa, La La La (Boynton)
* Where Is Baby's Belly Button? (Karen Katz Lift-the-Flap Books)
* My First Gruffalo: Colours
* My First Gruffalo: Touch-and-Feel
* Goodnight Moon
(thanks to Maureen of Island Fairy for recommending this one!)
* Dear Zoo
* Where's Spot?
(PS: And if anyone is going to buy any of these books, it would be really really nice if you bought them via the links above as I will get commission. Cheeky? Quite.)
Her books are all over the house. A full bookshelf in the living room. Some more books on two small shelves by her new wardrobe. More in a basket in her room. Two hidden away in my dresser for when I desperately need to keep her entertained while I'm dressing up. Two more in her changing bag and one hanging off the side of the buggy. Oh and four bath books in the bathroom.
I'm not sure how many books they all amount to, but it's a large amount. A very large amount. I seem unable to walk into a bookshop or browse Amazon without buying yet another book for her. It's good for her, I argue.
Lately she's worked out that she can specifically ask us to read to her.
"Bk," she'll say and sign book.
"Would you like me to read to you?"
She'll nod, carefully. "Yish."
"Choose a book."
She'll scan her bookshelf (we're usually in the living room, which is where her largest book collection lives), while tapping her fingers on the shelf (I kid you not!), and she'll soon pick out her favourites having recognised their spines.
She'll look over to me or her dad and pat her thigh a few times. "Ca, ca!" (Come)
This is what we do to signal to her that she should come over to us and therefore it has become necessary for her to pat her thigh whenever she wants to come to us.
"Come and sit here," I'll tell her, patting my thigh.
She'll eagerly come and sit down beside me or on my lap. "The-tew!" (Thank you)
And we'll read while she follows attentively and lifts the flaps or feels the touchy-feely bits. Once the book is finished, she'll sign finished and the entire process begins again.
Some days, we can go through the entire bookshelf in a day, sometimes twice. And then we'll read more books in her room before she sleeps. I won't pretend I always have the huge amount of patience necessary. Some days are easier than others but since she's started pointing at pictures in books and saying the correct words, I'll admit I'm finding more patience for the whole thing. Seeing the fruit of my labour makes it much easier to appreciate the good it's doing.
This is her living room bookshelf:
My sister couldn't help herself, apparently, and had to organise it in her OCD way a few weeks ago. It lasted all of three minutes.
Emily's current favourites are:
* Baby Faces (Look Baby Books)
* Big Book of Beautiful Babies Board Book
* Moo, Baa, La La La (Boynton)
* Where Is Baby's Belly Button? (Karen Katz Lift-the-Flap Books)
* My First Gruffalo: Colours
* My First Gruffalo: Touch-and-Feel
* Goodnight Moon
(thanks to Maureen of Island Fairy for recommending this one!)* Dear Zoo
* Where's Spot?
(PS: And if anyone is going to buy any of these books, it would be really really nice if you bought them via the links above as I will get commission. Cheeky? Quite.)
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