Fifi is three this weekend, which means it’s pretty much three years since we had a squalling newborn in the house. It’s funny how much you forget in that time, and it’s just as funny how quickly it all comes flooding back.
It’s taken me the best part of a week to get into the swing of winding a newborn after a feed. By getting into the swing, I of course mean having the patience to carry on patting away until a terrible burp occurs. Otherwise, there’s an hour or so of grumbling from the moses basket as trapped wind works it’s way through.
The broken nights are easier, thanks mostly to the existing kids giving us precious little respite until fairly recently. Littlest has also obliged by settling (more or less) into a 3 hour night time feed pattern. Of course that’s not the true story, it’s 3 hours from start to start, with 20-60 minutes for the actual feed and winding, but it’s an improvement on where we were with the other two at this stage, that’s for sure.
The Boy is taking the new arrival a little harder than Fifi, which is odd, as I always thought she’d be jealous of losing her position of youngest but I suppose I’ve not had the time to play with him as much as usual in the tumult of laundry and nappy changing and general mess tidying.
I’ve certainly not had a chance to write my birth story yet, so you should probably keep your eyes tuned and your ears peeled for that one…