The Moses Basket Retires

On Tuesday night, while Graeme was at the Liverpool match (4-0!), I faced the mammoth task of putting Francis to bed. Francis isn't great at settling for me at bed time - Graeme usually settles him - so I wasn't exactly thrilled at the prospect. At about 8pm Francis started yawning and, instead of settling him in the living room and carrying him up as we normally do, I decided to try and settle him upstairs. I also thought that the time had come for him to start sleeping in the nursery, because there is precious little room left in his moses basket.

I popped Francis in the cot and turned out the light, hoping he would get himself off to sleep like he does after his night-feeds, but he was having none of it. So I tried picking him up and pacing the floor with him - this didn't work either. I managed to calm him down so I put him back in the cot... at which point he started screaming and going purple in the face. So I did the only thing that settles him when he's in such a state - I breastfed him. Within seconds he was asleep. Even so, it was a good 5 minutes before I felt brave enough to attempt to stealthily place him in the cot. I was right to feel wary - he woke as soon as I moved and I had to pop him back on the breast to get him to sleep again before he roused enough to realise what was happening. Eventually, after another brief feed, I held my breath and, extremely slowly, placed him back in the cot and nervously slid my hands out from under him. After satisfying myself that he was sound asleep, I backed out of the room and closed the door, cursing myself for forgetting to spray the hinges with WD40.

Going to bed that night was an unpleasant experience. This was the first night that I'd slept in a different room to Francis since he came home from the hospital. I found it extremely difficult to settle. I'd become accustomed to looking over the edge of the bed and seeing Francis snoozing happily in his moses basket or reaching out and holding his tiny hand; now that Francis wasn't there I felt very uncomfortable. Every little snuffle and whimper over the baby monitor had me on edge; I couldn't help but wonder what each whimper meant. It was some small comfort to me that the baby monitor was so sensitive that I could hear Francis breathing.

I woke up at 5:30am to the sound of Francis grizzling for his next feed. He looked so pleased to see me when I picked him up, so I'm not convinced he likes being in a room on his own. As it was so early I brought him into the bed where he stayed until it was time to get up.

I still didn't feel any better about him being in the cot when we did it again last night, but we have no alternative. He is too big for the moses basket and the cot is too big for our room. I guess I'm just sad that this is a stark reminder of how quickly Francis is growing and his needs changing. It'll be his first day at school before I've had time to recover from all the sleepless nights!

Lisa xxx

PS - Francis was weighed on Tuesday and is now 11lb 10oz.

Street Fighter

Last night I was woken from my slumber by a to-do in the street. Well, I say to-do, but it sounded like a loads of banshees having a riot. I don't know what it is about this area, but when people have some sort of beef with one another they like to settle their differences in the street. By shouting and screaming. In the middle of the night. And they like to bring all their friends along for good measure because it would seem that the best way to settle a dispute is to see whose "team" can scream and swear the loudest. "Who the f*** do you think you are?" is a favoured taunt as is "It's got nottun to do wit' you."

I have no idea what this group of women were arguing about. Their yelling was so high-pitched I'm surprised I could hear it at all. It went on for a good 15 minutes, during which time I prayed they wouldn't move any closer to our house and contemplated calling the police. As it happens the police did turn up, but the fight had thankfully moved further away by that point.

I have never heard the like of it in my life. Why people feel the need to shout and scream at each other like that, especially in the street, is just beyond me. Some people just have no class or decorum whatsoever. Sadly, this type of incident is becoming quite common in our street. The woman next door has some sort of feud going with another woman and they regularly engage in verbal sparring in the street. As if fights weren't bad enough, a couple of weeks ago someone set a car on fire at the end of our block. I used to be quite happy living round here, but I'm starting to become more uncomfortable with the situation - this is clearly no place to be raising a child. And Liverpool is going to be the Capital of Culture next year. What a joke.

Lisa xxx

Solid as a Rock

Today Francis had his first taste of solid food.

I'd suspected for a while that Francis may be ready for weaning. When we saw the consultant last month he said that we should go by Francis's actual age, not his corrected age, when deciding when to wean. This surprised me at the time as I had fully prepared myself for Francis to reach 8 months old before being introduced to a spoon. However, given Francis's behaviour over the past couple of weeks I can see the consultant's advice was spot on.

Francis has gone from 3-hourly feeds to feeding every 1 1/2 hours or so, sometimes more frequently. His fingers are never out of his mouth and he's started chewing on his muslin squares. He's started waking up at stupid o'clock every morning, has become very difficult to settle at bed time and has stopped sleeping through. Last night, for example, he fed at 7:30pm, which is usually his last feed, and was in bed at 8:45pm. By 9pm he was awake screaming for a feed. I fed him and got him back to sleep, but he woke again at 10:30. I'd hoped this might be it, but he woke yet again at midnight! It was gone 1am by the time he went to sleep and then he was awake at 6am! I've lost count of the number of feeds he's had today. I barely get a second to myself and I'm feeling incredibly drained.

It wasn't until today that I was completely satisfied that it wasn't a growth spurt. I'd put Francis in his bouncy chair in the kitchen so I could get the dishes done - sometimes he's happy to watch me. I'd almost finished when I could hear him getting quite upset - I turned round to find him attempting to eat the toys on his play arch and getting incredibly annoyed that they weren't edible. I found it very upsetting to see him so frustrated so I decided to try him with some baby rice. After some initial upset about accepting a spoon, he seemed quite keen on the rice - he screamed whenever I took the spoon away! He became very upset after a few spoonfuls, so I gave him a breast feed which calmed him down and got him off to sleep.

I'm going to take the weaning very slowly and will stick with baby rice for a while. I'm very conscious of Francis's prematurity and don't want to cause any problems for him by rushing things. Still, if things go well it should make my day a bit easier - I seem to be permanently feeding him at the moment and I'm exhausted!

Lisa xxx

Happy Birthday Little Alan!

Happy Birthday to my cousin, Little Alan. He's 18 today, so not so little any more!

I could mention how it seems like only yesterday he was just a baby, crawling backwards around the living room, but I won't - that just makes me feel old.

Apologies for posting this so late in the day, but this is the first chance I've had - Francis is a demanding little boy!

Love from Lisa, Graeme & Francis xxx

A Trip to Hoylake

Yesterday we went to Hoylake to see the progress our friends Steve and Al have made on doing up Al's old house. There's a family waiting to move in so Al really needs it finished in double-quick time, but, it being such an old house that hasn't been touched for years, they've had no end of problems hampering their progress. Even so, the place was looking pretty good considering they've still got a lot to do. I was particularly impressed by the kitchen with its solid oak units and snazzy mosaic tiles. Seeing what can be done to a place really makes me want to get stuck in with the rest of our house so that we can get it finished and move on to bigger and better things ASAP!

After a cuppa and a chat we said our goodbyes and headed to the beach to make the most of the remaining sun. We strolled along the promenade eating ice creams with the sun at our backs, Francis snoozing in his pram. All around us were families with young children, enjoying this rare occurance of sunshine. There were no scallies around, no grafitti, no girls in ugg boots and pyjamas... It was a world away from Liverpool. I was very sad to leave and found returning to our not-so-idyllic neck of the woods with its boarded up houses and gangs of kids really quite depressing. The sooner we can move away from Anfield the better.

Lisa xxx

Sad News

Sweep, one of my family's much-loved cats, passed away this morning. He was 12 years old.

Sweep had been beset with health problems recently and despite exceptional care from the vet, his condition continued to deteriorate. My Mam took him to the vet again at the weekend as Sweep had virtually stopped eating and was painfully thin. The vet said that the growth in Sweep's leg had been cancerous and the cancer had spread and there was nothing more they could do. I had the feeling Sweep was seriously ill the last time I saw him, but I honestly never thought that this would happen. Sweep has always been so fit and healthy, so to see him go like this is truly heartbreaking.

Night night Sweepies. We'll all miss you.


Lisa xxx