I can ask her, "would you like to go downstairs?" She'll reply, "dreegiel, driegeellll".
It's all in the tone. You kind of have to be there, or ask me to do it in person.
It was a busy couple days prepping for more visitors. Everyone keeps saying "let the housework go" and I have a little, but in this compact townhouse it's a bit like a ship and everything must stay in it's place from me to retain my sanity. Fortunately Nana-to-Z came over and hung out with us while I ran the Dyson for the first time since foaling and it was very satisfying.
And someone won't stop hitting herself. I finally figured out (a-doih!) that she was probably trying to scratch the dry patches around her ears and eyebrows. So I greased them up with some of the most amazing bum/face cream ever (Bum Cream by Peas in a Pod - link to follow). Her skin looks so much better, especially as I mix the creams and with the introduction of nightly baths. No pooping in the tub yet, but some serious farting.
Today I was told by the public health nurse that farty babies can turn out with a higher intelligence then non-farty babies. (I should have opened with that line). She said the extra rhythmic rocking that farty babies get to calm them helps them build synaptic pathways.
I heard farts=smart.
BabyZ=lots o' farts=quite smart.
The routine progresses. Word is that a baby has to repeat a change for three days before it becomes set. I think the routine is pretty set.
Tomorrow: humidifier shopping and more Bjorn time.
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