James is lucky he's so damn cute. This morning, after a feed at 2 am, and only half way towards his scheduled feed at 6, he decided he was hungry. We're trying to keep it dim during these feeds to instill the idea that night time is sleep time. So I stumbled up and groped my way to the kitchen to boil a kettle.
Having yawned myself to some form of wakefulness, I plopped the bottle of breast milk into a cup of boiling water, and groped my way in the gloom to the bedroom.
It had been suggested that we start a feed, and then do a nappy change, if needed, part way through. So having got him settled, and partially fed, I opened the wrapped blanket to see what was what. This is the point at which sensitive viewers may want to switch channels ...
All down his left leg, through the white baby grow, and glistening like an oil slick in the near black, was a steak of something unmentionable. Guess he needs that change then ...
Since it is winter, changes are something to be done in haste, and are impossible to do quietly. This is an issue because Claudia was passed out in the bed, and in desperate need of sleep. I swore softly but violently, and holding the poor child up on my shoulder to help burp him, I awkwardly laid out the changing mat, and collected the paraphernalia needed, one handed. The yelling has to be heard to be believed. You'd think we were skinning the child, not stripping him. And I'm trying to do it at pace in near pitch black. In the immortal words of Peter Sellers: "That felt good!" (Pink Panther Strikes Again, just after the Inspector has fallen down a stair well)
Well, the story ends with me washing baby clothes at 5, and walking up and down with the little tyke until I had to get ready for work at 7 because he wouldn't go down. Tough work - but I wouldn't change it for the world.
Oh, thankfully I have no pictures of this episode.
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