Seriously, I started this post 3 days ago and so far all I've managed to do is upload 2 photos and start to complain that stalking Plunket is getting very old (they were supposed to make their first visit to us at 5 weeks. Cuinn was 9 weeks last Friday), and we still haven't managed a home visit yet ... or even managed to make contact with a nurse come to that (although one did park at the end of the driveway for about 5 minutes the other day, before driving off never to be seen again), just a babboon at the end of the phone who doesn't seem to be able to tell her arse from her elbow. Taking into consideration that they appear to be absolute morons, I'm really given to wonder what is to be achieved in making contact anyway? Yes they weigh and measure the kid, but a set of bathroom scales can't be that expensive, and I have a tape measure. How hard can it be? As for seeing if I've gone mental (I have no idea if they care that I may or may not be going mental - in fact, I actually have absolutely no idea what they're supposed to do at all), that's pretty much a given, so I can save them a job there too.
What else? ... What else ...?
Ah yes. The kid still won't sleep during the day. We managed an excellent zizz at coffee group last Wednesday morning for about an hour and that was the last time that happened (although, having said that, I've just gotten an hour out of him this morning. There will only be an hour though as hollering has just set in), and night time is a complete shambles - night feeds slide by any margin up to about 5 hours, and sometimes happen once, sometimes happen twice. Excellent. So, this week we're staying home, no adventuring, and we're working on day sleeps. Although I've decided to throw freaking out about routines to the wind and free-form it according to what the kid tells me he needs, following the basic indications he gives me, unfortunately for him, said basic indications involve a morning sleep, and he fights that like the dickens, regardless of the fact that meltdowns (Him. And me sometimes) ensue if he doesn't give in. I'm still pretty happy about the nights, even though they're viciously unpredictable, but the days do need sorting. Did I tell you I get evenings now too? The munchkin goes to bed at about 7pm, so not only do Al and I manage to get a hot dinner each, we also manage a hot dinner without ringing ears.
Awesome.
Oh. And Daddy was perfectly able to change nappies after the dire hand injuury incident (incidentally, it was only dire because of the no nappy changing potential, so he lived another day.
And with that, I'm going to throw this wee update, in so far as it is an update, up before I get stymied again, and work on a proper entry in the next day or two.
Stories with Daddy.
Doing what he does best - chewing on Daddy's hands and drooling. It's very important to note that not any old hands will do, they must be Daddy's. Somthing to do with that residual jet fuel taste.
3 comments:
Heya,
Just to let you know that Plunket are completely useless here in Palmerston North as well. I waited 6 months for DS's 18 month check, keep harassing them, and if you dont get anywhere try Paft? ( I think) or a Kai Ora?
He's looking absolutely stunning :D Nice and Healthy.
that kid looks like trouble with a capital t. i hear you with the non-sleeping. i think it is a leach speciality, seriously. we had tooth gnashing anguish when amelia wouldnt sleep when we walked, sang, drove etc until we caved in and realised that she WAS GOING TO sleep when she bloody well felt like it. i know you will understand that absolute luxury we OFTEN experience now when she goes to sleep in the car, and we carry her in STILL asleep, and she sleeps for TWO OR THREE HOURS. however, that is normally after a period of sustained running, swimming, climbing, eating, swinging, running, sliding, talking, pushing the stroller with her bare teeth etc etc etc. in other words when she is totally exhausted (and so are we) . . . get the kid into swimming lessons, stat, and as much fresh air and wind as he can handle, with a healthy dose of sun. and one of those bounce in the doorway thingies so his fat litle legs can burn some over-exuberant energy off.
I'd give Plunket a miss and either go to your GP for his check ups or call Plunkets head office. They didn't come to see Cooper and I until Cooper was Cuinn's age... Dumb eh?
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