17 weeks old - Potters Bar Fashion Week

STRIKE A POSE!

fash•ion•ista /fnist/ noun (used especially in newspapers) a fashion designer, or a person who is always dressed in a fashionable way.

...the following evidence proves that we're both well on our way to catwalk heaven.

Our personal fashion designer and dresser (M+D in that order) think that they've discovered a couple of new looks that they hope will be sweeping the shows in Milan, Paris and New York in no time:

1) Evie's homage to 70s kitsch - and obviously a tribute to Mum's peculiar addiction:



2) Joe's re-interpretation of the classic James Herriot pre-war vet look from All Creatures Great and Small:


"'Oh, Mr. Herriot,' Mrs. Pumphrey said, looking at her pet anxiously. 'I'm so glad you've come. Tricki has gone flop-bott again."

16 weeks - toys are us!

Everyone knows that Dad loves his gadgets (yawn) - well sadly we seem to have caught his bug already.

The good news is that we're limiting our geekery to toys and baby devices for now.

This week we realised that 'Donkey' and 'Cow' that George and Rosie bought us are actually TOTALLY GENIUS!

We have now figured out how to hold them, how to suck their faces off, and how to drop them over the side of our chairs (this is the best bit cos Dad has to get off his fat ass and pick them up!)



...and the bells that are hidden in their legs ROCK - man we could shake those for hours.

Next up is something called a BUMBO - well frankly we don't care what it's called - it's purple, it's rubbery and it makes us sit up in it all by ourselves.

Here's Joe drooling over it, Dad suspects that one day Joe will host "Pimp my Bumbo" for MTV.


"mmm, smoooooth - but it could do with some flames up the side and a nice fat spoiler"

Evie's just happy to be sitting up on her own:



Finally this week, Evie has found out that she's got more than one volume level, and has developed her own language.


"waaa weeeahh weeeeaarrrp peeeep"
= "OI! get the milk out you numpty - I'm dying over here!"

15 weeks - it's all about evie

Regular readers will know that Evie was born with a cleft lip - which requires a major operation, general anaesthetic and 4 days in hospital - doesn't get much worse for a 3 month old baby.

Here's her story...

I went into hospital on Sunday (Addenbrookes in Cambridge). It's like a big house but with more lights, louder corridors, more people, and no cats.

Here's how I looked the day before my operation.



On Monday morning Dad took me down to theatre and a blue man put a mask on my face and then I zzzzzzzzzzzz.......

(Dad's note: this was actually the worst part of the whole experience. If you're taking your baby in for a general anaesthetic then prepare yourself for the trauma of seeing them go under by gas - it caught me off guard)

...and then the purple rabbit hopped away and I was left on my cloud eating raspberries.

Oh, you're back. So I woke up about 3 hours later quite happy because of something called 'morphine' - man I gotta get me a stash of that stuff.

The rest of the day I spent snoozing - all of the nurses told M+D what a superstar I'd been, and that they had never seen anyone be so relaxed or hardly cry - well all I can say is when you're as high as I was it's difficult to do much more than grin at pretty much anyone who cares to look at you.

Here's how I looked the next morning.



Then I tried some more smiling and a bit of gurgling, but something in my lip was getting in the way of my normal smile, so I freaked out for quite a while, and sounded a little weird.

There was also something called nasal stents up my nose to help reshape my nostrils, which were a total drag and make it really really hard to eat.

All of this made me wanna scream....so I did. Quite a lot.... for the next 5 days....

Some other drugs helped me to calm down from time to time, but Mum really deserves an award for being the person who seemed to be able to sooth me the best. Dad and Ruth (my new maternity nurse friend) also helped me to relax.

Joe was no help whatsoever (I've logged that for future reference).

Thankfully the stents came out a week later...but it hasn't stopped me screaming just yet

Here's how I look now:



So all in all everything went amazingly well, if you're interested in more details ask M+D - it's really been quite a week so I'm going to sleep now.

where's that morphine when you need it ......zzzzzzzzzzzzzz

14 weeks old - food glorious food! (well milky milk anyway)

Now we're sure you'll all remember Oliver Twist's dilemma:
"Please Sir, I want some more..."

Well, in this house we ain't got time for pleasantries - and we've figured out if we open our lungs the milky stuff just keeps on a-comin'!

This week Dad was forced to take emergency action - picture the scene - Mum sleeping soundly after yet another day (and night) of dealing with us, it's 5am in the morning and we're feeling a little peckish - we could handle an amuse bouche of lactose...

"Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa-aaaah-aaaaa-aaah..."

Ten seconds later:



Ten minutes later:



Mission accomplished... "buuuurp"

After that we needed some entertainment, so Dad called on our new best friend "Morning Bird" - he's kinda like Big Bird, but not as big...or yellow...or annoying

He even manged to fly into one of our photos: