Babies: miraculous and demanding. And when baby's aunt and nearly grown-up cousins come to visit, it leaves even less time for the trivialities of life, such as blogging. That's my excuse anyway. La soeur et les nièces arrived 8 days ago and left yesterday. In between early morning trips to the airport at either end, it was perhaps not the most exciting of trips abroad for a pair of teenagers but that wasn't really the point. The main attraction was obviously their six week-old niece and cousin respectively
Activities of various sorts were organised during the course of seven days otherwise crammed with vying with each other to feed baby, leaving the parents to deal with nappy changing, helping with the shopping, and pram-pushing on the daily afternoon walks:
Monday: a walk in the park for everybody in the warm afternoon sunshine.
Tuesday: the rest of us leave la bienheureuse at home with baby while we climb les Pentes de la Croix Rousse, walk back down through town and then have lunch on les Berges du Rhône, where mother and baby join us in the warm afternoon sunshine.
Wednesday: the breastfeeding pair are once again left behind as I lead an expedition on a two-river cruise in the warm afternoon sunshine: down the Saône past the new Confluence development, up the Rhône, and back again.
Thursday: niece number two kindly gives me the evening off cooking duties and prepares finger-licking fajitas.
Friday: back to the touristing as we hire Velo'vs and cycle down the river to Parc Gerland and back in the warm afternoon sunshine. Quite enough exercise for the week for some.
Saturday: finally time for the visitors to do their duty with a bit of gift shopping for friends and family back home. Meet up with mother and baby for a final walk along the river in the warm afternoon sunshine.
And then there were three. La petite has just spent her first night in a room of her own. And carried on the happy recent habit of sleeping through the night. Long may it continue...
25 avril 2011
09 avril 2011
Shorts
Time is short and life looking after baby is busy, so a few short stories to resume the last two short weeks:
La belle-mère came and went, her time filled with sewing, holding and feeding her petite-fille a bottle or two when she was allowed, taking lots of photos, going for walks along the river, and browsing family history and camera websites. She promises to return soon…
La petite coquinette continues to guzzle and grow. One month old already. The statutory visit to the pédiatre on Thursday produced a weight gain of 300 grams in a week and a height gain of 4cm in a month. The bluff old doctor pronounced her in perfect health, 'belle et intelligente', a future Nobel prize winner. It's official then…
The milking machine has been put into temporary retirement. A visit to the baby care centre yesterday produced a new routine to follow: back to normal breastfeeding supplemented with formula if necessary. La petite doesn't care where the milk comes from as long as it's getting into her mouth.
At the other end, nappies continue to be filled as though they were going out of fashion, though not so often with the smelly stuff in recent days. Two stories to tell there, which I'll try to keep brief out of regard for those of a delicate disposition. Marvellous piece of technology, the modern disposable nappy: leakproof and foolproof. Well, almost. The one catastrophic failure occurred when the little angel was sitting on my lap. The rear end explosion projected material (which I've seen fairly accurately described somewhere as the colour and consistency of French mustard) some distance. Result: complete change of clothing for both of us, and a quick shower for me. Ma fille smiled beatifically through the whole palaver.
Second toilet story is slightly more mundane but perhaps instructional. As babies get older, their bowels mature and movements become less frequent and regular. After three days sans caca, we were beginning to wonder if all was right. The paediatrician assured us it was completely normal, and sure enough, that evening the missing material appeared all at once. This time the nappy did its job, though it's a mystery to me quite how such a large volume was contained in such a small space. In two such small spaces in fact…
Meanwhile, the flow of presents for la petite appeared to have ceased a week ago, but has resumed near flood proportions in the last few days, including a second offering from une copine de la bienheureuse, who visited yesterday. Seems women find it hard to resist buying clothes for little girls. A very spoilt young lady now has a different outfit for every day of the coming year. Thanks to one and all.
In between the nappy changes, feeds and sleeps, I was afforded time last weekend for a first trip back to Blighty in three months. Fine trip it was too, apart from the main event. Least said about football the better, but the day in London was redeemed by a lovely curry at the Masala Zone in Upper St and a pint or two of beer. On the social side, I found le grand chef and mademoiselle beaucoup in fine form, and eager to celebrate the new arrival with champagne on our return to Cambridge. Could hardly refuse, could I?
Finally, the weather in Lyon has been positively summery in the last few days. Full sunshine and temperatures in the mid-twenties. The shorts are on to stay.
La belle-mère came and went, her time filled with sewing, holding and feeding her petite-fille a bottle or two when she was allowed, taking lots of photos, going for walks along the river, and browsing family history and camera websites. She promises to return soon…
La petite coquinette continues to guzzle and grow. One month old already. The statutory visit to the pédiatre on Thursday produced a weight gain of 300 grams in a week and a height gain of 4cm in a month. The bluff old doctor pronounced her in perfect health, 'belle et intelligente', a future Nobel prize winner. It's official then…
The milking machine has been put into temporary retirement. A visit to the baby care centre yesterday produced a new routine to follow: back to normal breastfeeding supplemented with formula if necessary. La petite doesn't care where the milk comes from as long as it's getting into her mouth.
At the other end, nappies continue to be filled as though they were going out of fashion, though not so often with the smelly stuff in recent days. Two stories to tell there, which I'll try to keep brief out of regard for those of a delicate disposition. Marvellous piece of technology, the modern disposable nappy: leakproof and foolproof. Well, almost. The one catastrophic failure occurred when the little angel was sitting on my lap. The rear end explosion projected material (which I've seen fairly accurately described somewhere as the colour and consistency of French mustard) some distance. Result: complete change of clothing for both of us, and a quick shower for me. Ma fille smiled beatifically through the whole palaver.
Second toilet story is slightly more mundane but perhaps instructional. As babies get older, their bowels mature and movements become less frequent and regular. After three days sans caca, we were beginning to wonder if all was right. The paediatrician assured us it was completely normal, and sure enough, that evening the missing material appeared all at once. This time the nappy did its job, though it's a mystery to me quite how such a large volume was contained in such a small space. In two such small spaces in fact…
Meanwhile, the flow of presents for la petite appeared to have ceased a week ago, but has resumed near flood proportions in the last few days, including a second offering from une copine de la bienheureuse, who visited yesterday. Seems women find it hard to resist buying clothes for little girls. A very spoilt young lady now has a different outfit for every day of the coming year. Thanks to one and all.
In between the nappy changes, feeds and sleeps, I was afforded time last weekend for a first trip back to Blighty in three months. Fine trip it was too, apart from the main event. Least said about football the better, but the day in London was redeemed by a lovely curry at the Masala Zone in Upper St and a pint or two of beer. On the social side, I found le grand chef and mademoiselle beaucoup in fine form, and eager to celebrate the new arrival with champagne on our return to Cambridge. Could hardly refuse, could I?
Finally, the weather in Lyon has been positively summery in the last few days. Full sunshine and temperatures in the mid-twenties. The shorts are on to stay.
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