Baby foot Haiku - too many sylables but what the heck

Sleeping baby's foot
peeps from a blanket
my love grows

The other day while Madeleine and I were chillazing on the bed (I was trying to get my princess to take some rest) she fell asleep under her little pink blanket and all I could see was her little foot peeping out. My heart felt so full at that moment - and I realised what a miracle it is that she is in our lives - growing, learning, and filling our days with joy.

I never thought I would be so happy - my twenties, like many I am sure - were not the best and I spent a lot of time feeling really crap. Now it seems that being with someone I love and having a child has healed all of the sadness and filled me with such purpose.

Watching her now playing in the jumper in the doorway and chattering away saying things like "Mmmummm mmmmammm MMummm", and "Dadadadadaa" I get really excited thinking about what will happen next. She is so full of life and fun you can't help but smile at her.

My baby is an air mattress hog - or camping with our six-month-old princess

We went to Newquay in Cornwall to go camping for a few days. Our little two man tent was great for the three of us. Mummy and Daddy lay squashed to the edges of the tent and Madeleine lay in the middle doing her immitation of a star-fish - happy as Larry.

The first night was very rainy but we still managed to have a cooked breakfast of sausages and brown sauce on baguettes. Gorgeous - sadly we did not go off and fell a forest so will be seeing those on my hips relatively soon. Later that evening - after we ate out at a pizza joint in town - Madeleine let her preference for Mummy homemade organic veg be known when she refused to eat anything out of a jar. She actually made the universal face of yuck! >:x

The second night of rain, however, made us realise that while it is good to have a tent which can withstand the gale-force winds of Everest it is not really all that fun to test it out. Madeleine - once again slept very well - Mummy and Daddy marginally better.

The one thing that we did learn as a couple, however, is that generally we like each others company a lot [well baring the navigational teeth-clenching conversations which usually end with someone saying "firetruck!"]. When you are stuck in a tiny tent for six or seven hours, and then in a car on an English motorway for another five you had better get along.

Madeleine didn't seem phased by any of it - but did seem pleased to be back home where Mummy and Daddy could play with her more and she wasn't constantly stuck in some sort of seat (car or pram because we couldn't put her down to sit on the ground or at the beach - she would either have gotten soaked at the campsite or taken off by sand devils at the beach).

So over all we had the typical English seaside holiday - freezing cold, rainy and cut-short by increment weather, topped off with the eating of something with brown sauce and some ice cream while wearing two layers to keep warm. Fabulous!

Weaning - or how your baby might suprise you today

I have begun the arduous task of trying to wean my baby from the breast. Six months of hard but worth-while work has gone into the health of our 16lb 13oz daughter. She is the picture of health and energy - and the apple of our eye.

Something one should know about Miss Madeleine Anne: she will not be pushed. Our little girl went through phases where she would battle her Mummy and "disagree" with the introduction (or re-introduction as it were) of new things. From the start Miss Madeleine Anne had notions of her own as to how breast feeding would be accomplished - and would not hear of anyone trying to assist or teach her anything regarding technique (no matter that she was making Mummy ache and bleed - or that she was likely not getting enough milk), she simply would wrestle with me until she was in a position which suited her.

As a consequence of these boughts it was necessary to wear protectors for a while - this was not approved of and Miss M-A decided to revolt. Then eventually the protectors were not needed - and Miss M-A decided to revolt. These revolts took the form of much raging and crying and going red in the face.

Bottles of expressed milk were another source for battle - with a new brand eventually being purchased as Miss M-A prefered a different shape to those originally procured (at no small cost to the management).

Now Mummy - the evil torturer that she is - is trying to introduce death-poison on a spoon. Madeleine does not deign to scream but simply thrusts out her tongue and says "phwa" to various flavours of pureed veggies and fruit.

To date sweet potatoe has been met with a channeling of some ancient monarch's disdainful stony face. Cauliflower with a yuck face. Baby rice with a toleration which involves much spreading of it across the entire surface of her head (apparently it is good for your skin as hers is lovely and soft after a feed) and behind her knees. Apples are met with a with a look of perplexity that says: "This is marginally better woman, but don't you go pushing too much on me or there will be trouble!"

Last night - as a sort of "let's amuse myself at the baby's expense" experiment I tried some broccoli. [In order to continue with weaning which is a huge pain in the *ss one must please ones self periodically or go mad!]

Now I had read in several of my weaning books that as this was a strong flavour I shouldn't expect a positive reaction. Well blow me over, didn't the little blighter gobble it up. Mouth opened like a proper baby being fed and there really wasn't a lot of the stuff to be found anywhere but in her mouth.

I will not, however, become too excited by this success as baby will likely "school" me today if I serve her the same thing - and spit it out all over herself, the chair, table and of course her Mama. But blimey was I pleased with myself yesterday! Go Mama Margie!

For I Can't Help Falling in Love With You... [Again!]

My husband is a hero! I say this and hear sniggering (his and likely some of my readership). He gets up at 4.55AM and goes off to work every day at 5.25AM. He takes a two hour train and then does it all in reverse in the evening arriving home at around 7.30PM.

I know many men commute long distances to get to their place of work - but none of them are my man.

This morning Madeleine and I were up because she was having a feed. Daddy being the source of much giggling had her going with rasberries on her belly and neck and with tickles under her arms (can you say extactic baby?!). We decided to walk him out and wave bye-bye to him. He is so lovely because my tough-guy personaed husband was putty in his little girl's hands and kept turning around to wave all the way up the street.

In the evenings Madeleine and I like to meet him at the corner of the street or at the station. [Sometimes this means charred dinner but who can put a price on love and affection between a hard-working parent and their child!] Darren is always so happy to see us [well Madeleine anyway] and Madeleine is always so full of smiles for her Daddy that it makes me feel part of something so special - even if neither of them spare a look at me.

I am so pleased that my husband is so hands on and loving with our daughter and that she just lights up when she sees him. I fall in love with him a little bit more each time I see them together.