That’s not how you pick a baby up

We don’t leave mini me alone with either of his larger siblings because he’s only 3 months old and they’re both under 5. Accidents would happen, even through well intentioned effort. This policy was shown to be the right one yesterday when Fifi asked to have the baby on her lap. I positioned him there carefully and made sure she supported his head. He wriggled down a bit though and it was only swift intervention on my behalf that stopped him getting hoiked up by his head.

I definitely didn’t shout or raise my voice, but it set Fifi off on a wail-a-thon that lasted a good ten minutes. During this time wifey appeared to be hiding out downstairs, attempting to break the world record for the amount of time spent to make a round of toast and jam. When Fifi eventually calmed down, I explained to her that she couldn’t really pick her brother up like she would her dolly, and anyway babies were different to dollies. For the record, she’s on her second dolly, the hands came off the first one after too much using it as a bludgeoning weapon.

I have a feeling that Danger is going to grow up to be an incredibly robust boy, if only because of the rough and tumble he’ll become inured to from an early age. The boy himself was breath holding and passing out at this point and Fifi is pretty robust but all arms and legs, so is a bit clumsy. Danger however is a big, well proportioned lad, quiet when he wants to be, incredibly loud when required. He’s already sussed a method of propulsion that involves him doing a sort of inverse caterpillar. He’s made it a couple of meters up the rug doing this when we’ve not been paying close attention to him.

I can’t believe he’s over 3 months old now and rapidly approaching the 100 day mark. Equally, I can’t quite remember what life was like before he came along.