Decision reached, and a plan is developed.

After a positive start on the weaning front, the "dropping one feed at a time" plan is now getting really boring and totally frustrating. It would be OK...:

(a) ...if we had really regular feeds to begin. But we don't. Felix is fed on demand and that suits me just fine. The book is normally a really good source of advice on most aspects of baby-rearing, but lets me down this time by suggesting we establish some kind of feeding regularity before we start the slow weaning process. A quick flick to the notes on 'routines' tells me what I already know - that it can take 2 days to 2 months to establish regular feeding patterns. So I have neither the time nor the inclination.

(b) ...if we could swap a breast feed for a bottle, but Felix has rejected the bottle. We tried pretty hard since June to get him to accept it again but with no success. It was tiring for the bf and traumatic for me (see e). The only thing that made it better was the decision to give it up and try alternatives.

(c) ...if Felix were developmentally ready for the alternatives, aka drinking from the cup alternated with solid food. On the cup front both my trusty sources (Babycentre and the aforementioned book) recommend trying without a spout first but tipping the cup against his mouth and letting the baby learn how to sip. This is what we did with Jambeans so I've been happily doing it again with Felix. This time round I consult the book in a little more detail and find this gem: whilst babies as young as Felix are ready for the cup, I shouldn't expect him to drink more than a couple of fluid oz at a time. A penny drops - he has been doing this quite well but I was expecting him to ramp up the volumes quite quickly and had been getting frustrated when I couldn't see any more progress. It turns out he's doing fine with the cup training, but the cup isn't a reliable alternate source of milk to the boobs...

(d) ...if Felix ate more solids. At the same age Jambeans couldn't gobble the solids up fast enough. It was amazing how quickly she went from her first tentative spoonfuls to eating loads of veggies a day, often more than me. But she was premature, and they often take to solids very early, and every baby is different. But even though weaning her was totally stressful it did mean we knew she would be able to eat something when she started nursery, and we could keep her fluid level up with very runny rice porridge. After a seemingly good start it turns out Felix really hasn't taken to rice porridge at all.

(e) ...if we had a positive memory of weaning Jasmine. We did it the slow way with her too, replacing a nursing with a solid meal and sips from the cup. She took to solids super early and super fast, but any attempts to get milk down her were painful and we tried pretty much every tip, trick, hint, vessel and program there is. They all failed. My return to work deadline was looming. I hadn't had an hour to myself for 9 months. Jasmine wouldn't drink independently. I was crying quite a lot. It was totally horrible.

So bf and I talk this all over after his day of looking after the bub. And it goes a bit like this:

1) Bf feels that the slow method means it is too easy for the bub to insist on booby milk and too easy for the mum to give in and try solids/alternatives at the next feed. He is totally right.

2) Bf suggests going cold turkey on the boobs and replacing it with solids/cup. I feel fear. I don't want to have another child who doesn't drink enough milk. If he turns out like Jambeans there will always be the worry at the back of our minds that he simply isn't getting enough calcium in his diet. I suggest we try cold turkey, but with the bottle.

3) Bf feels fear. He doesn't believe Felix is capable of drinking from the bottle any more - that he has lost the technique.

4) True to bf's advice of having a confident attitude I spout some bullshit about having a 'vision' of Felix drinking milk from a bottle, sipping happily from a cup and eating solids when he wants. I talk more crap about 'believing in the vision' and that we have to 'believe that Felix can do what it takes to get there.'

5) I surprise myself by believing what I say. Bf surprises me more by saying 'OK. No time like the present. Lets start tomorrow.'

6) Reassuringly, I return to cowardly form and say I need time to get my head round the idea of not nursing Felix any more, so lets start next week.

But the good news is, we have a plan.

A scary plan, but a good plan nevertheless.

A giggly afternoon

Sunday. We're aiming for Felix ultimately to nurse in the morning and evenings only, so since bf is around he's in charge of the boy, and I'm in charge of the girl for the day. It feels to the bf that most of the day is spent encouraging Felix to eat. He eats some solids, not a huge amount, but it goes down ok I guess. He's still not eager for the cup.

I, on the other hand, get to play with Jasmine. We go for a long, cheery walk and end up in a cafe eating beans on toast and watching the womens' gymnastics - uneven bars - on a plasma. Jasmine is on great form, and mumbles 'legs, round and round' over and over while giggling hysterically as I spoon beans into her. It feels great to be bub-free for a while and I realise how much I have missed spending quality time with my daughter.

Weaning diary notes #1

Felix had a wee burst of booby milk this morning at 7.30am; then a decent burst at 8.30am; then a wee top up at 10am, just before his snooze. So it gets to 11.30am and I figure it's 3 hours since his last decent meal, a good gap, but he's had that wee top up in between so he shouldn't be frantically hungry. Into the Bumbo he goes, bibs are attached, food and drink are at the ready.

First up is the cup. I try for about 5 minutes but nothing doing. I switch to cauliflower and broccoli puree and spend 10 minutes trying to get him to eat. He's happy but clearly not interested so I do the sensible thing and stop trying to feed him at all. Maybe his 'top up' was actually enough to keep him going for much longer.

It's now 1.20pm - over 3 hours since he ate or drank anything - and he's in the Bumbo, again, refusing to drink from the cup entirely, again. I try to make him smile hoping to get some milk into him while his mouth his open, but that doesn't arouse his interest either. I end up splashing oodles of the stuff everywhere. Everywhere, that is, except into his mouth. Sigh.

Decide to be patient. Switch to puree. Maybe 5-6 tiny spoonfuls go in, but it takes 15 minutes. At this point he starts to whine and cry, and I know it's a hungry cry. Grim determination sets in. He is going to finish his veggies at any rate I tell myself. I know he can do that - he's eaten quite greedily before, he can do it now. So there I go, ladling tiny quantities into him every time he opens his mouth to cry. So he cries harder, and I ladle more in. I see it gather in his mouth and wonder if he's going to gag and vomit it all out, but he does eat it. He just doesn't eat it willingly. By now he's eaten maybe half his veggies. There were only 2 tablespoonfuls to begin with, i.e. a pethetic amount. But I am feeling OK and determined and not affected by his crying and imploring looks to stop torturing him. Only then, his crying changes tone and becomes insistent, pleading, and pained, and he starts trying to jerk out of his seat so I can't direct the food into his mouth properly. And I time it, to see how long I can withstand this. And it's only 3 minutes before I give in.

I breastfeed him on the sofa and tell myself "You are so weak" and then the Good Cop voice goes "but he's not well, and is teething, and was up twice last night screaming his lungs out in pain, and he's just a baaaaby..."

Feeling totally clueless - addendum

Typical. So by the time the milk has cooled Felix is totally frantic and crying and there's no way I'm going to be able to feed him anything, and I am convinced he needs to do a poo, because he's straining and his little face is going red, so I take him to the sofa and try and distract him with a cuddle and some raspberry-blowing action on the tummy but he's still crying, now really insistently, and whaddya know? He IS hungry and gobbles gobbles gobbles gobbles some booby milk like he's never been fed before.

How totally frustrating.

Feeling totally clueless

So this weaning thing, well it involves both weaning onto solids - going okaay I guess, and weaning off the breast and onto formula from a bottle or cup - going very slowly. Felix drank 60ml from his Doidy cup today, but it took about 25 mins. This is either a fantastic result, or, seeing as he should be drinking about 600ml a day and needs to be doing it independently in about 6 weeks' time when he starts nursery, could mean we're heading slowly towards total disaster.



But the main point is, I really haven't a clue what I'm doing. I just muddle along without a plan. I'm not the kind of mum who gets up in the morning and goes, Right! Today we're going to drop feed (a) and replace it with a cup feed of x ml and then drop feed (b) and replace it with y oz of solids and then we'll increase it all by z over the next c weeks... I don't have regular feeds to begin with, so I just sort of make it up as I go along.

The result is mainly that Felix is plonked in the Bumbo, which can be at any time of the day, and might be offered a cup feed, or some solids, or a combination of both. Since I'm trying to feed him when he is hungry but before he gets too frantically hungry, I'm going by the clock, i.e. time elapsed since he last ate or drank anything, but I can never be sure I've timed it right when I try to feed him. Since it's such a painfully slow process anyway and it's always accompanied by some crying, moany-type noises it's hard to tell whether he's not sufficiently hungry and is rejecting what I have to offer him, or is just taking his time and trying to get the hang of it. (Or, now I see it in writing, the third option is that he is hungry but is still rejecting what I have to offer him because he wants boobs.) I've had various success, sometimes I persist and he does gobble a load of food up, and sometimes I persist only for Felix to vomit up what seems like an entire bowl of pureed veggies seconds later. And very often I tell myself that I'm just going to feed him solids and try and get him to drink from a cup and then make him go hungry for the next 2 hours only to cave in to his appeals and top him up with booby milk half an hour later.

So he's in his Bumbo right now, and has been eating a decent sized blob of foul-smelling carrot and broccoli puree, but it's going down really slowly and at the same time he is making big time whiny crying yelpy moany type noises. And they could mean "I'm so hungry this isn't doing it for me right now, give me BOOOOBS" and they could mean "I'm really not comfortable in this seat but I reckon I could still eat some more veggie slush" and they could mean "I'm not hungry and not interested" but right now, and for most of the day, they've sounded like "I want to do a big poo". I'm worried that I translate all his noises as "I want to do a big poo" but he, well, strains, and has done three today already so I can't be that far off the mark. But he has been sipping at some water from the Doidy quite eagerly, so I'm also wondering whether he's actually saying "Give me a decent drink goddammit to wash this thick gloop down with" so I've made some formula and have left him a wee while for it to cool and brain dump all my inconfidence onto the blog.

Grandma's visit, hot London, poorly toddler

The summer heat must be going to my head, because I really enjoyed Grandma's visit and managed to be a friendly person for the whole weekend. That's twice in a row now. I worry when my irrational dislikes of people start to erode - it means I'm changing into someone who might be described as "nice" (which in my world translates as "one of the most tedious people to walk this planet.")

True to form, Jambeans managed to catch another cold-cum-fever-and-chest-infection to coincide with Grandma's visit and the 31 degree heat outside. It makes it a bit difficult to tell whether she's properly feverish, or just hot'n'sweaty like the rest of us, but she's OK - we've seen worse.

Felix, bless him, is also snuffling. It's his first cold. Aaaaaah. But he's OK too and he ate some veggies for the first time yesterday without a single vomit in sight. The weaning plan is all going smoothly.
Did I mention how hot it is outside? But I'm not going to moan - it sure beats Winter.

Getting Felix to sleep through - fourth night

Night 4 sleep report as follows:

Felix' last feed was at 18.10, he went to sleep on his own at 20.00, woke at 04.00, bf went to check on him but no cuddle, Felix then cried for 42 mins only and slept till 7am...

Am feeling hopeful.

And I've also decided to ditch getting Felix onto a bottle for at least the foreseeable future and wean Felix straight onto the cup, as we did with Jasmine. It's going well so far - he's lapping up about 60ml at a time in a messy but eager way, and I'm sure could take more. And he seems quite comfortable with formula, even if it's neat. And including the fact he's eating rice porridge quite nicely maybe, just maybe, that means I can start having the occasional morning off when bf is at home?

It's scary just writing it down because it seems like too much to hope for. Also, at the back of my mind, is the knowledge that Jasmine made exactly the same progress and then rejected the cup a few days before she was due to start nursery...

Onto solids

After a tentative start, Felix has been readily eating small spoonfuls of rice porridge for the last couple of nights. Jasmine, curiously, has been asking to have porridge too, and this evening insisted I also spoon feed it to her.

Bam-jeans does Heat magazine

Saturday 7th April - Easter weekend

• so into it:
  
• chewing the tops off broccoli heads "no way are these vegetables"
  
• eating raisins like no other food exists "yummy yummy"
  
• drinking milk or water from a cup "but only occasionally mind you"
  
• waving hello
  
• picking up super small things with my finger and thumb
  
• flirting with grown-ups on the tube "you grown ups - you're so easy!"
  
• sleeping thru' 12 hours
• chilling on a rug in the garden
  

• so over it:
• toast "it's easy, it's quick - where's the challenge in that?"
  
• breastfeeding "so for babies"
  
• sitting still "because there's so much to explore"
  
• daddy being on call for the whole of Easter "Borrrring"
  
• Snot Rivers "Joan's evil cousin has laid siege to my nose"
• being last in the pecking order after mummy and daddy for Heat magazine

• so looking forward to:
• baby boyfriends birthday parties - ben, zayne and sam
• mummy and daddy splashing out on a weekend away for my birthday
• auntie mary and uncle leon visiting soon
  

Visitor from Boston

My cousin Arun was in London for the weekend from Boston (where he studies for an MBA at MIT - comes from a whole family of over-achievers) and he came over to see us. Judith was in North London too, and popped in, so we all had a very chilled day sitting around the kitchen table and catching up. It was great to see Arun - he's an all round lovely guy, and proves that not all yanks are evil.

Jasmine's definitely off vegetables now, and feeding time has stretched from about 15 minutes to about an hour as we try giving her different things before succumbing to porridge. She's a lot more demanding these days too - and if she's hungry and has to wait a little while we make her food, she throws a hissy fit and can try to lurch out of her chair quite violently. It's not so bad at the moment, but definitely more painful on the ears and she's moved up a gear in testing our patience.

Her sleeping is not so great. In the last week we've had one night of respite when she slept through, but the rest of the time she's woken up in the middle of the night and cried for anything from 45 mins to 3 hours. Last night it was 90 mins. We're tired today. Am dreading a repeat performance tonight as I hate working when I'm knackered.

She's started soiling her nappies in the middle of the night so we have to go and check, and that does make things worse. I really succumbed last night - I simply had to pick her up and give her a cuddle, then I tried some Bonjela, which she wouldn't take, so she was even more upset, which led me into bringing her into the bed with us. Boyfie was obviously tired and trying to get some kip, but the minute I lay Jazzie down she would let out a piercing scream. Eventually he gave in and went outside to do something else. I felt v. guilty so eventually put Jam-beans back in her cot so we could both go back to bed. At least I didn't feed her.

Plan tonight is - give her Calpol straight away. We're working on the assumption that something is causing her discomfort (teething?) and preventing her from getting back to sleep. If that doesn't work, we're back to letting her cry it out from tomorrow.

Despite the lack fo sleep we've had a great weekend and I feel very relaxed. We went to the Wildlife Photographer of the Year Exhibition at the Natural History Museum yesterday, preceded by a very chilled lunch in the Poynter Room of the V&A. It's one of those congregation points for the middle classes - there was a distinct lack of trainers, make-up, hair gel and, sadly, style. Dp called it a chav-free zone.

Developmentally, Jam-beans is rolling over both ways with increasing confidence, and still banging things together as if her life depended on it. She's definitely got the hang of eating rice cakes too, which is a relief as it's instant and pretty much the only thing between contentment and a hissy fit if she's decided she's hungry and has to eat NOOOOOWW.

Tooth number 3 and a whole lot more

Thursday 1st March.

Gosh, it feels like Development Day today.

Jasmine is 10 months and 3 days old today, or 8 months and 2 days, depending on which way you look at it, and weighs 7.91kg. And it's been a big day at the baby office for our little Jam-beans.

First of all, Jasmine's 3rd tooth was discovered poking through this morning. Hurrah! That could explain all the 4am wakings over the last week, and her inability to get back to sleep without screaming at the top of her lungs for about an hour whilst frantically stuffing an entire muzzie in her mouth.

We're so used to saying 'it could be teething' at every fit and tantrum, with no subsequent evidence to prove us right, that it didn't even occur to me over the last week that a tooth was coming through. My usual insecurities about not feeding her enough (obviously the Indian in me coming out) just took over and I assumed she was waking up in the middle of the night feeling hungry.

It's the top left incisor, and I knew it had arrived as breastfeeding felt a bit, um, rougher, than usual. I always said that when the top teeth came through then I would stop breastfeeding, and I had always planned to stop at about this time, but in all honesty I've been putting it off because I'm not looking forward to the crying, and protests, and rooting, and all the hassle of making up bottles morning and night. It was hard enough cutting back to twice a day. But I guess I just have to grit my teeth and get on with it. The longer I leave it, the louder she gets...

Then Jasmine decides that today is also Rollover Day. As in back-to-front rolling over. Which she has done with great skill and confidence 3 times today.
The last time about 5 minutes ago - when she rolled off our bed.

Whoops.

Not as bad as it could be, I suppose, as our bed is a futon and is only about 4 inches from the ground, but that definitely marks the end of something, and the beginning of something else a whole lot harder. Notwithstanding the oodles of guilt I am currently feeling for having left her unattended on a raised surface, I am at least pleased that after the initial screams she worked out by herself that she was OK and was perfectly quiet and calm when I went in to check on her and found her on the floor.

And for the first time today, the bub grabbed hold of her spoon, shoved it in her veggie puree and then stuck it in her mouth. She's done those 3 actions separately many times before, but today it was definitely with a sense of intent, rather than by accident, and as if to prove the point she did it again. It wasn't exactly a picture of grace and coordination but I was so proud.

I was also a bit proud of myself as I contentedly allowed Jazzoi to grab the hugest globs of lunch and smear/ throw/ daub/ flick/ drop them everywhere - all over her, the chair, my jeans, her clothes etc. without even a hint of panic at the mess. A few nights ago dp said that he sometimes thinks I'm a bit obsessive compulsive with my mania for order and tidiness. That worried me so I am resolved to prove to him that I can be chilled about it - if I choose. I haven't given up the idea that it is just a strategy of his to get me to let him get away with being a messy pig.

But I digress. The last (or maybe just the latest) 'first' that Jassamina did was cut back to two naps a day. Her first was for about half an hour between 11.30 and midday, then she stayed awake until 4.30pm without so much as a yelp of fatigue.

Now I'm praying that she naps for a good hour so I can finish this and have a cuppa and a relax. It's just hit me how tired I am, as it's 5pm now which means I've been up for 11 hours today already. Blimey.

Veggie rejection

I've been getting a bit paranoid recently about veggie rejection. At home and nursery Jazzie is showing a definite preference for sweet porridge, and has refused a few meals of lovingly-prepared veggie sludge, so I keep suspecting full blown refusal is going to happen soon - probably because stubborn rejection (bottles, cup etc. etc.) is a firm favourite of hers. Every time she turns down a spoonful (accompanied by much raspberry-blowing in protest) I feel a slight 'ohno' twinge, though so far it seems that she simply hasn't been hungry for more at the time.

My trusty parenting book says that eating finger foods is another one of those things that when it happens, comes along very quickly, so there's not much need to worry as it will expand the repertoire of taste and texture that Jazzie will like, so in the spirit of being prepared, I've been thinking about what my plans B, C and D could be.

I'm praying for a lot more time though as so far Jazzie still can't get past the idea that a rice cracker is a toy.

Jazzie's friends Ben, Caroline's little boy, and Noah from baby yoga are both eating more solid food so I am getting plenty of tips. Noah, apparently, likes scrambled egg, prefers pizza crust to bread but still can't quite get his head around chunks of banana. Ben loves banana and apple-flavoured rice cakes but not plain ones.

Saw Caroline today, who is still blooming with bun number 2 slowly cooking. We went to one of those kids play activity centres in Wood Green. To be honest, Jazzie is still a bit young to take full advantage but she liked seeing her boyfriend, and going somewhere different and watching all the other kids play. I, on the other hand, had a great time - probably better than the bub did. We got there really early, and no one else was there so I had a quick play in the big activity gym.

It was brilliant.

There were lots of different levels to climb up, and little lookouts, and nets to peep through, and one of those big mangle-type things where you squeeze your body between two squidgy rollers to get to the next section, and right at the end was one of those wavy slides from the top level to the ground, and my bum didn't get stuck (thank god) and I went down super fast and even took off over the bumps and got a bit scared that I wouldn't slow down in time when I got to the bottom but it was Ok and I jumped up with my arms in the air going this is brilliiiaaannnnt, again again AGAIN. On the slide I even managed to scrape a whole load of skin off my elbow which will turn into a lovely scab I can pick. The ladies who ran the place were in hysterics. Then Ali had a sneaky go too, but we had to stop after that bc lots of other grown ups arrived with their kiddywinks.

Vomiting boyfried

Martin's visit was fun, but tiring, and my head was buzzing and had a headache and still felt a bit sick so couldn't get to sleep v well and moan moan moan moan. Jazzie went down at 19.00, woke up at 00.18, which was bad timing so I was effing and blinding a bit, but also because the boyfried had woken me up about 30 mins earlier so he could cuddle himself to sleep leaving me still awake. Jazzie only cried for 15 mins tho' then woke up again at 06.38. It's going well.

So it was definitely a bug, as dp has been upchucking all day, and having the shivers and the achey bones. He quarantined himself upstairs while I looked after the bub. Man it's so tiring. I was knackered by 3 o'clock. It's not that long since I was looking after her all day mon-thursday. No wonder I was such a mean basket case. How on earth do full-time mums of two cope?

I really enjoyed making Jazzie's meals today. She had leftover parsnip and courgette mash for breakfast, followed by rice porridge. Made her cauliflower and carrot for lunch today, which she hoovered but has been doing smelly cauliflower burps in my face ever since. Then she demolished lunch leftovers plus a huge bowlful of banana and apple porridge for tea. She's really getting into touching the food - she gets a huge glob on her fingers then inspects it really carefully before grabbing the spoon and gripping onto the bowl really tightly. Not long to go before she's dumping it all over her head. Oh joy.