This week I thought I’d write less about what I’m putting into Joe and more about what’s coming out. Because it’s been a terrible shock to the system. Mine, I mean, not his. Although presumably his too.
You see, Joe has been pretty much exclusively breastfed for six months and, like many breastfed babies, has not bothered much with the pooing, going less than once a week. Apparently this is normal. So my midwife told me anyway.
And that’s been great. We haven’t been overwhelmed with nappies, haven’t had any of those just got him dressed, left the house, exploding nappy, desperate dash home incidents that were so prevalent with his formula-fed older brother (the first time I put Harry in a baby carrier he pooed so extravagantly the carrier had to be binned), that is until I started weaning.
Now he poos all the time. Like five times a day. And during the night. He had been sleeping through (well, until 5am, which I don’t exactly consider through, but theoretically it is), but now he’s waking with a dirty nappy, sometimes more than once (last night it was 1am and 4.30am). And he wakes up in a panic, presumably because he too is unused to the unpleasant sensation of sleeping in his own, er, mess.
But then, because he’s a greedy urchin, he obviously thinks he’s woken up for food and so this panics him too and he can’t decide which need is the more urgent. So it goes something like, “ARGH! MY NAPPY! IT BURNS! GET IT OFF, GET IT OFF, GET IT OFF!” I start dealing with the nappy. “WOMAN!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING? I’M STARVING! FEED ME! FEED ME NOW! NOW, NOW, NOW!”
Woken from a deep sleep, I’m generally still trying to work out which end is up and Joe is melting down. I’ve actually seriously considered waking my husband and getting him to change Joe’s nappy WHILE I feed him. Last night I went for changing him first and his panicked wails woke Harry. (I did indeed wake my husband to go and deal with *him*.)
That aside, Joe is still enjoying scoffing and I’m still trying to get him into some sort of routine and actually cook something for him. So far, I’ve only managed to “make” him banana and kiwi fruit and tried and failed a carrot mash (how can you fail at mashing a carrot? Tune in next week!). He’s still loving the Organix stuff, the Banana Porridge and Summer Pudding being the particular ones he eats the way I eat crispy seaweed or Maltesers (i.e. with abandon. And unpleasant sounds. And mess).
Right. Better go. I’ve got a nappy to change.
by Keris Stainton