beginnings

The piggy flu seems to be flying around the globe. Bit worrying, haven't stock piled food and water for the plague siege, yet, however.

I am wondering if daughter and Beautiful Babe will risk the plane journey next week from California, and the one back, two weeks later.

Breathing recycled air for 10 hours x2 is not to be recommended at the best of times.

I went shopping in the baby section today, first time for 30 odd years. Some things have changed, no sign of terry towelling nappies, but lots of gizmos and "wipes" which didn't exist in the dark ages.

BB is now 5+ months it seems, I can't keep up, and is starting on single grain rice with expressed breast milk for supper. Oh Cor Blimey, it put my own boobs all of a twitter at the thought. I never used a breast pump either and somehow daughter's news made my nipples quiver. As long as I don't start dripping.

Bought some towels for BB which I guess I have to wash in Comfort or some such to keep them nice and soft. I prefer a nice rough towel job myself, but i believe I have a large Comfort somewhere at the back of the cupboard that came free with something.

BB, I am told, can't be doing with anything perfumed, but happily Sainsbury's is across all that and we could get unperfumed wipes [oh my lord].

Had to go to the SuperMarket as i don't think we have a baby shop in town, Mothercare curled up and left years ago. Unlike the huge warehouses of choice they have in the States. So where do I get the changing mat, baby's bath, does he still need a baby's bath, I dunno.

Fortunately I can borrow [I hope] a child's car seat from a friend's daughter, maybe she can lend the bath too. Again no car seats when mine were tiny, the nurse just handed them over, blanket wrapped, at the hospital steps and after that you were on your own.

The district nurse person visited for the first few days. Unfortunately I outraged the first one by not being able to conjure up the polite word for baby son's poop from my exhausted brain.

The second babe [daughter] was bought back to a caravan on the archaeological dig [bronze age pit dwellers] by taxi and tractor [it was in the midst of farmland]. The visiting nurse took one look at the camp site, heaving with hairy diggers, no running water or electricity and refused to return.

Worse thing was the diggers had overdug the garbage pit - so son [21months] was happily toddling to the edge and peering down into the 20' depths to see where the wasps were buzzing to.

Archaeologists are infamous for their nonchalant disregard of comfort [personal, not softener] so I just carried on. Being in a caravan with a hissing Tilley lamp at night, all sleeping in the same "room" was somehow very comforting. We moved on in a couple of months so that First Husband could do his degree at Durham University, but it was never as cosy and safe as in the middle of that field again. The kids have remained close, if fighting on occasion, so maybe it was a good beginning.