Bee baba bada bab...

...I'm a scatman.

Today was another first.

Today she discovered her own poo.

Emma has been attempting to introduce the potty. Not in any "You will sit there until you use it!" type way, but more of a "Look at this interesting seat. It's where we sit after a meal".

So Emilia sat for all of about a minute before deciding she was bored and went for a crawl. She was sitting on the floor, playing with bunny one minute and then playing with a brown lump the next. Somehow she had done the biggest poo on the hardwood floor and then picked it up and started poking it with a finger.
There was no straining. There were no tell-tell signs that she was going to poo at all. She was clean one minute and poking a piece of poo the next!

You'll be glad to know, I'm sure, that there are no photos of this incident as we were both too busy gently stopping her from smearing it everywhere, while at the same time, trying not to scare her and laughing uncontrollably.

So a quick, smooth wipe-up later and then rushed upstairs for an early bath!

I did find this though...

Hi Ho, Hi Ho...

...it's off to work we go - if only for a weekend.

I had a lovely weekend this weekend (well, a long one anyway)!

I decided to use a couple of Keep In Touch days with work to
         a) catch up with my collegues,
         b) remind myself what I was supposed to do when I do eventually go back to work and
         c) work out what child-care arrangements will be needed the morning after working a 'late' shift

So Friday started as usual (at 0530hrs) and I did the usual thing of following Emilia around the house as she tried (and often succeeded) to open and close every draw, door and flap within reach; and press every button on every piece of electronic equipment within reach.
I stay out of her way until she's about to hurt herself (or sometimes just after she's hurt herself a little but before she hurts herself a lot) which means I'm constantly moving and constantly watching those little hands.

At lunchtime, I passed her over to Emma so I could quickly shower, change and start my commute to work.

Now I was expecting to be a little slow getting started at work. Remembering what "real" work was but I didn't realise that the electronic world would be against me! I got in to find that my computer password had expired, my PDA had forgotten who i was and needed replacing and the number 1 on my work mobile was refusing to register no matter how hard I pressed.

Luckily I had given myself a bit of extra time to get these things sorted before the shift started but it definitely started me on the wrong footing!

I had the usual "Ah, you must be the new boy"; "Hi, Sir, you seem lost. Can I help you find anything?"; "Barber closed today?" (I've let my hair grow a little and I've grown a beard as a nod to my new responsible self) but generally I fitted back in easily - to the point where at the end of the shift, it felt like I had never left.

So I got home at 2am, checked on Emilia - looking as cute as a button and snoring gently - and fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

3 hours later I was woken by a grumpy Emma stomping around getting Emilia a bottle for her morning feed and Emilia deciding that she wasn't going back to sleep for love nor money (actually, I don't know if Emma tried the money thing, but I doubt she would have taken it up).

I think I must have sighed, or looked at my watch because, as-quick-as-a-flash I heard "Just 2 hours. Can you deal with her for just 2 hours. Then I'll get up. I promise". I didn't have the energy to argue so I rolled out of bed, plastered the best "Good Morning, Sweetie" smile I could muster and tried to be cheery for 2 hours.

I then slept til midday, walked the dog, quick shower and back to work.

Day 2 was as smooth as silk. Technology didn't fail me and all the things I was worried I'd forget came flooding back as though I hadn't been away for 4 months. at all.

So what have I learned from this that I can pass on to anyone thinking about doing this too?

a) the jokes don't change
b) it takes a little while but you'll be amazed how fast it comes back
c) we DEFINITELY need child-care the morning after I do a late shift!

I'm sorry. I just couldn't help it

Please don't judge me on this.

She was doing so well with her crawling but a sudden lapse in concentration and...

If you listen very closely, you'll here 2 stifled sniggers as she lands. We are bad parents...

And she's off!

It's all going to change now.

We were just starting to wonder if she was going to walk / talk / crawl first. I had a chat with one of our baby-group leaders 2 days ago about how to encourage her to crawl because she was struggling to coordinate arms and legs.

She would put one hand in front of the other as though crawling but she forgot to move her knees so would faceplant over and over again.

Because she's such an obstinate little thing, the usual "exercises", where you move their arms and legs in time to music/rhymes, wouldn't work. She simply refuses to cooperate and pulls away. The advice was to put her at the bottom of the stairs and encourage her to climb the stairs! 

I was a little reluctant to poke that lion so I gave it a couple of days. I waved her arms about and kicked her legs a little.

The very next day I took the dog for a walk and when I returned, I was greeted by a very happy emma and (I may be imagining it) a smug looking Emilia. 

Emma says "Watch this, watch this" and went to the other side of the room with Emilia's dummy in her mouth. She kneeled down and Emilia looked, grinned and crawled over to Emma, happily chattering all the way. She was so pleased with herself.

So now she can crawl and pull himself up to kneeling on stuff, she is everywhere! I've found out that the living room is not baby-proof. There are cables not-so-well hidden and she is obsessed with the sky box. She has found the on/off button and the randomly skip through channels button. The days of watching TV during the day are over, I guess. In fact I think my job has suddenly got much harder...

Who's a good little wifey then?

Today I embraced my house-wifey side and I cooked Emilia a pizza. From scratch.

I don't mean "I put the toppings on a pizza-base" - type of scratch. I mean that I combined flour, salt, sugar, water and yeast to make the dough before allowing it to rise in a warm, draught-free area before I put organic tomato sauce on top with some mild cheese and herbs and cooked it.

That kind of "from scratch". This is how it turned out (after 1 slice made a successful bid for freedom):

Home-made pizza for Emilia

It seemed to be enjoyed anyway...

I also made pizza for Emma and me which went down well (however less mess was made, so I couldn't tell you if it was as popular.

Sweet dreams are (not) made of these...

I think my brain is against me.

I woke up last night only because my brain told me that I had brought the baby into bed and was just about to lose her over the side.

I woke up, sitting bolt-upright, frantically searching my side of the bed for a baby that wasn't there. I then checked the floor around the bed incase she had already fallen out. - Secretly praying that Emma didn't find out that I had dropped the baby over the side!

What is really weird is that Emilia has been sleeping in her own cot, in her own room for over 4 months now and not once have I brought her into our bed at night.
What's also weird is that this isn't the first time I've had this dream. Seems to be a weekly thing, every week for the last 3 weeks.

The reason I write about it now is that (apart from the dream) last night was the first night for ages that was no reason to get up. No miaowing cats, no scared dog trying to get away from fireworks by digging under the bed, no crying baby and no disturbance from the chickens. Just my brain, and it took an hour to settle enough to allow asleep afterwards.

Apparently an unbroken night's sleep is too much to ask for! Hopefully, as I've not had any cheese tonight I shouldn't have any weird dreams!

Breaking point

### This is the post I wrote before "what a difference a day makes". Emma has now read it as a draft and said that a lot of people would relate so I'm sharing.###

How do you convey the tipping point of a man who has been broken by the merciless task of looking after his own daughter?

I am REALLY struggling over here.

Emma is working from 0700 - 0000 every day, missing out on bath time and general cuddle time.
She is therefore not able also to do anything around the house or generally help with anything.
If she comes down for a coffee, she will make funny faces / cuddle Emilia for the time it takes the kettle to boil then she's back upstairs til the next coffee break or I take lunch up to her.

When I was working, my shift pattern meant that I would sometimes work 7 night shifts in a row and so I would be effectively useless for 7 days but Emma has been like this for 3 weeks!

I'm also struggling with the heat / humidity. I don't have the motivation / energy to do the housework and am doing the least amount I can to keep afloat instead of actually doing a proper job.

Most worryingly this attitude has slipped into my parenting too. I'm sure that I've put her to bed during the day because I was tired rather than her. Not deliberately, but I've thought I've seen tired signs and put her down, only to have to go back and get her 5 minutes later because she has no intention of going to sleep!

So, in summary, I have no wife, the house is a bomb-site, the animals are lacking in the attention they need, I'm knackered and I think I could be doing a better job with my daughter. Sound like social services need to get involved yet, or just another day as a stay-at-home-dad?