Tag: Baby

Eight Months: Exploring the New Territory

~ marobbie ~ Leave a comment

Robert and I covered a lot of ground -literally and figuratively- since we moved in with Jackie. The friction of the first few days with our new landlady as we tried to carve out our space in her already organized single-woman’s existence is now past. We have grown again to appreciate the camaraderie and the understanding that stems from our mutual respect for each other. In contrast to Ron, Jackie is not judgmental, and is not on a mission to try and make me into a “better person”. I am accepted the way that I am and I believe I am liked well enough that way. For my part, I enjoy her sharp wit and the way she calls a spade a spade. We both have our blind spots when dealing with our emotional issues and conflicts with men, but of course we can see each others problems clearly and can offer sound advice, only not for our own problems. Most important is that we can have fun together, we are both good sports and can take the Mickey out of our respective backgrounds (Jewish and Arab), and can also make fun of the interesting realities of our South African existence.

Robert is getting a lot of attention from Jackie, as she loves playing rough with him and throwing him around, as he hoots with delight. He is crawling around and exploring everything. I need to keep a close eye on him since Jackie’s house is not baby-proofed. We are starting to use the vehement “NO” very often, and Robert can definitely understand it although he does not obey it most of the time. Like all small children he sometimes responds with an innocent face looking back at me while his little hand keeps inching in the other direction towards the forbidden objects. In other words he keeps testing the limits. Standing is now is very easy for him and he loves to pull himself up on the furniture. He also cruises from one side of the sofa to the other to get to a toy or to my cell phone.
The routine of feeding and bathing has settled. When we moved I decided it was a good opportunity to start dunking Robert in the adult-size bath. He can sit quite well without any help, and neither me nor Lucy have any problems with him, since he enjoys the water so much.

During the last week of April, Jackie took me and Robert on several outings. I had my first evening meal at a restaurant with him in attendance. Jackie and I enjoyed a lovely steak at a restaurant in Sea Point. On another day we went to meet friends in the northern suburbs were we had coffee in the mall. The mall had an outside area and a little playground, and Robert enjoyed his time on the rocking horses. Later on the same day, we enjoyed a seafood lunch at a posh restaurant overlooking the bay and Table Mountain. Robert spent most of the meal sleeping in his baby seat, and when he woke up he had a taste of clam chowder. For both of us this is a noted change from our stay-at-home routine, and we both enjoyed it. Dealing with Robert on these long and short trips was not too much of a challenge; he is a happy baby most of the time and doesn’t fuss too much.

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Feverish Daze

~ marobbie ~ Leave a comment

I do not want to forget how difficult these first few weeks in April were. I was trying to cope with the new environment, the new territory, and the rules of my new house mate. However, I still had to be thankful for having a friend to stay with. I don’t think I could have coped by myself for the first few days. On our second day at our new home I was off from work, Robert was recovering slightly from the injection’s effects and I was busy trying to organize our room and our life. On Thursday I started what will be my routine for the rest of the month for morning shift work. I woke up at six – before sunrise, fed and clothed Robert, then took him in the pram towards his dad’s place. The walk takes about twenty minutes, and I always aimed to get there at seven or just after. I delivered Robert to his dad, with a bottle a change of clothes and diapers then ran down the hill to catch a taxi to work. When my shift was over I picked up Robert and walked back home with him.

The interim arrangement I had for April was to continue in this way, with dad looking after the baby when I worked morning shifts and Lucy, Jackie’s nanny/domestic worker taking over on the afternoons when she is off. Miriam let me completely down and I was left without a back up plan. To complicate matters further, I could not just employ whomever I choose, because Jackie is extremely paranoid about admitting strangers into her place.
I thought that the best solution to work around these problems was for me to work at night. I put in a request through to my managers for permanent night shift work. My rationale was that Robert sleeps through the night, and only needed someone to be there in case he woke up, which he rarely did. I was waiting for an answer for over a week now, and as luck would have it, I received my answer on that first day at work after moving out.
When I was notified by their refusal I was so upset I broke down and cried. It was something I have never done before in a professional environment, and it made me feel so ashamed. It was really enough for me to deal with the humiliation of telling my story, and asking for special working conditions, and now this. What I thought was the perfect solution for my problem was no longer possible but management compromised by allowing me to plan my own schedule, working whenever I can, until such time when my boy can be accepted in day care, and I can have normal working hours like everyone else. I was back to the drawing board on that one, trying to find another plan at work.

As if I did not have enough on my plate, Robert became feverish on Thursday afternoon. I gave him infant drops, bathed him and expected the fever to break quickly but it didn’t. I wasn’t feeling great either, my immune system must have buckled under the strain; I had a runny nose and the symptoms of the cold. I did not feel like facing the floor either, so I called in sick for then next day (Friday) and planned to take Robert to the doctor as well. Early on Friday morning I had a very bad fright; Robert woke up at dawn, and he was boiling hot. I took off all his clothes and started putting cold compresses on him, but I was in panic when the ear thermometer showed 42 degrees. I didn’t know what to do but wake up Robert’s dad and ask him to take us to hospital. In his usual calm manner he pointed out that at a temperature like this the boy would have been comatose, so perhaps it wasn’t correct. So I took another measurement with the rectal thermometer which arrived in Auntie C’s package, and this time the temperature reading was 39 degrees. This was still fever but not a death threat. I gave Robert more infant drops, and stayed up with him giving him cold compresses until he felt a little cooler and went back to sleep.

In the morning I made an appointment for him to see a GP in our area. Since I did not have access to the car I thought I might as well get used to the services available at walking distance from us. My appointment with the doctor was at eleven and after that I had also a meeting with the lawyer at 12 in town. The timing was a little tight but still doable. We took the long walk to the doctor, and made it just in time to see Dr. L. I was impressed with her gentle and thorough manner. It was clear that she was a good physician who was very good with children, she looked like she was expecting one of her own too. Robert’s diagnosis was upper respiratory tract infection, and Dr. L advised symptomatic treatment. She gave him a prescription for a different type of syrup to alternate with the infant drops I was already giving him. She also instructed me to monitor him for the next few days, and bring him for a follow up if the fever didn’t break. On Saturday I was supposed to work an early morning shift starting at five, so I had to get a certificate from Dr. L. to prove the reason for my absence. The last thing I wanted now was trouble with work. After the doctor I had to rush into town to catch my meeting with the lawyer. I had to call Robert’s dad to fetch him, and save me the time and effort of walking all the way up the hill to his place, then running down again to the taxi stop. Ron met me halfway up the hill and I rushed into town.

At the lawyers I had to sign some legal paper, then he gave me an affidavit that needed to be signed in front of a commissioner of oaths. So on my way back I had to make yet another stop at the police station to get this done, before walking back to get Robert. When I arrived he was asleep, and his dad said that he did not mind if I stay with him until he wakes up; he was leaving to gym anyway. While I waited I checked on my internet accounts and downloaded my mail. This turned out to be the last time I would use my computer in a month.

Robert recovered slowly from his ailments and fortunately I had three days off work where I could finally relax from running around. I just sat at home, played with Robert in our backyard, warmed my chilled soul in the gentle autumn sun and read. Jackie is very supportive of us, she loves Robert and interacts with him all the time. He responds to her quickly when she asks him to “clap handies” and loves it when she rough-houses with him. Robert is benefiting from our different styles of play, and Jackie has somehow -at least during playtime- jumped into what is supposed to be dad’s role.
When I am home I still have many things to do. I need to go shopping every other day, because I cannot carry too many groceries while pushing Robert in his pram; I wash our clothes by hand on every dry and sunny day; and I cook us some extremely simple meals. In the meantime I am still taking a lot of emotional strain; I am deeply aware of the chaos of my life, and I find myself craving the perfect order I used to reject in my previous life. I know that I am grasping at the outward order to compensate for the complete emotional and personal collapse. I get stuck on small details, and cannot get past the need to organize things that under normal circumstances I would have found unnecessary. A few days ago I wanted to replace the silicon nipple on Robbie’s bottle, and I walked all the way down our main road, asking in every shop. Then I retraced my way back to the other end of the main road where I finally found a replacement set. The exercise took two hours and Robert and I arrived home past dark, both extremely exhausted. It was one of the few days where I put him to bed without a bath.

Although things are extremely difficult for us at the moment, there are also moments of happiness that shine through, and kindness that comes when least expected. Jackie’s mom bought Robert a set of colourful stacking cups which I am now use for his bath. She also bought him a couple of jars of baby food. I guess Robert now has a Cape Town granny.

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Surviving the First Day

~ marobbie ~ 2 Comments

I am ready to drop off with exhaustion, but I feel like I have to write a few word. Today was tough, but baby and I survived. In my panic to get things done before I become officially homeless and transportless, I begged Mr. Negativity to take me and baby to the clinic as he was due for an immunization. The timing was perhaps not so good, but I knew I will be overwhelmed with many new things in my new place of residence, and I did not want baby’s immunization to slip through the cracks. Also I do not see myself calling Mr. Negativity for such things once I am done with him. He likes to think of himself as a benovelent benefactor, but I know better. I would rather call a cab and pay the exorbitant fare than put up with his sighs and complaints about “effort and expense”. Right or wrong, I decided to go ahead and give my baby the injection, and we both lived with the consequences.

Today was really a bad day. The child had a slight temperature and an obviously sore leg. He whined a lot and did not want to eat. His father was so anxious to get rid of us he actually helped drop off my boxes at the new place. He made THREE trips, which is phenomenal. Unfortunately in the confusion of the last trip I forgot a few bags in the garage, one containing baby food and formula. I only realised that much later when he had left.

On that final trip we had an argument as Mr. Negativity implied that the flat was now his and I should hand over the keys. I argued that I am leaving my computer and some household items he will carry on using and will only give him the keys when I take posession of my things. Well, that earned me again a storm of his temper and added to the agitation of my poor child strapped in the back of the car. On the one hand I feel like giving him the retort he deserves and on the other I know I need to keep quiet until this is over. I am buying myself out with silence.

Divorce is final he says and we are no longer married. I point out to him that as far as I am concerned nothing has been finalized yet. The consent papers are awaiting his signature and my bank account is hemorrhaging and will soon be no more. I haven’t seen a cent yet from the promised “generous” maintenance. I suppose when the guy married me he never counted on me becoming old enough to answer back. So now that it’s happening he cannot control his rage. This is the mood he left us in at our new home.

A bad day continued getting worse, when baby started acting up. Either the bad energy of dad or the injection’s side effects caused continous crying fits. Meanwhile I was trying to find and organize things in our new room. It was then that I realised that his bottle and formula were missing, but when I called Mr. Negativity he said: “No way I am going to deliver it, let your friend come and get it”, then hung up on me. I managed to keep the little one sustained with some breast milk, but he remained hungry and unhappy, and I was tied down and couldn’t leave to get the stuff. I swallowed my pride and tried phoning again and this time the mood was slightly better: “Okay I will bring the things on my way to town”.  He was going to town to sign the consent papers for our divorce, he said.

The trials of the day left Mr. Negativity unscathed. He showed up in a fresh, nicely ironed shirt, asked me to phone the lawyer’s office to make sure they will still be there by the time he gets to town, and carried baby and talked to him (something he rarely did in the past few weeks, at least not in front of me). He also brought me along the stroller which I had forgotten in the confusion as well.

Experience has taught me that Mr. Negativity becomes nice only when he has something to gain, or has much to lose. I think after the argument we had in the car he figured it was too much of an effort and expense to live without the modem, the microwave and my few pots and pans, so he thought he will play softball for a while. He did not even ask me when I was going to get my cat. God help me until this whole thing is over.

In the papers I am filing for my divorce there is a letter he wrote to me when I tried to leave him for the first time. It was full of love, regret and promises. I keep it to remind me how false people can be when they have something at stake.

Final Days

~ marobbie ~ Leave a comment

Sadly, my days together with Ron are numbered. Throughout this I am still trying to keep an outward facade to my family overseas who know no better. I do not want to add on to their worry. In the midst of all this, Robert’s long awaited Christmas present from Auntie Celia arrives. Its belated arrival made a sad testament to the changed circumstances. I picked the parcel up at the post office, and the it lay unopened for days. So I finally decided to open it and divided the presents, which were supposed to be shared. Ron got the tea, and I kept the chocolates, while Robert got the whole lot of baby goodies and a book.

During the past week Ron and I steered away from each other. He kept his usual morning routine, and at night he went to sleep soundly while I stayed awake, reading news feeds and blogs and writing my own. Just messing around on the internet to shorten the hours of the night and to keep the fear and desperation at bay. Many of my problems do not have solutions yet. Who will look after Robert while I am away at work? How will I manage work in the long term? what will happen next? I try not to think of everything at once, and deal with one problem at a time.

I had to explain my situation at work, thus making myself a novelty and a freak. People who have been at my work long enough know that I have been close to divorce before, and I can imagine the gossip that is spreading on the floor. I endured the pitying looks and asked for some arrangement to my shifts. The first solution that came to my mind was to work 20 hours of night shift every week. I thought that Robert slept through the night, and Jackie is home almost every night so she can keep an ear if he wakes up at night for some reason. I am still waiting for a response for my request, but if it is not granted I really do not know what else to do. Jackie is careful and paranoid about people who enter her house. It will be difficult for me to employ domestic help if they do not meet with her approval.
All these problems I try to forget while Robert and I are together. We are spending many hours at the park, and enjoying our final days there. Once I move in with Jackie it will be a much longer walk here, and I am not sure whether I can come here every day.

Robert crawls now very easily on the grass, and he can sit in the swing for a very long time.

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Getting Ready for Battle

~ marobbie ~ Leave a comment

We are going to do battle soon, over trivial things. I feel the eminent confrontation over what is mine and what is his. I can almost walk away from everything except for my books and my craft tools. The only thing that stops me is knowing deep down that I am entitled to some things.

There is precious little in this flat that belongs to me alone anyway. These are few things that I bought for me, with my own money, when I first came to Cape Town two years ago. Husband is the type that buys the cheapest kettle, and toaster. While I give myself a little treat with a cordless kettle, and a sandwich maker. I am partial to the things I bought, because I chose them with care and paid the correct prices. Strangely enough it is not the appliances that I hang on to, it is more the little gadgets and tools.

Today the argument was as follows: If I do not pay the telkom bill then he will deduct it from my -yet to be seen- maintenance, or maybe from the child’s maintenance. Earlier, when I asked him if he can take us shopping for diapers and baby stuff he answered that he doesn’t need to do that, because he will pay for maintenance, and why should he pay twice. I can sense that we are going to descend to pennies and cents shortly, but what the heck, there is no point being nice anymore.

Bear in mind that I have offered to keep him on my medical aid in return for a contribution and even thought of leaving the modem for the telephone line. He even alluded to the fact that he wants one more ticket at staff prices from my airline employer. I did not say : Hell no, you do not deserve it. I just try to be reasonable, for the sake of momentary peace. In the end, he is helping me look after HIS son while I go to work. In his book he is being nice and doesn’t have to do it.

I look at my poor baby and feel sorry for him. I have chosen a complete jerk to be his father. I hope he will not be afflicted with the same emotional and psychological shortcomings of his sire. Yes, I know I am not perfect, but heavens I consider having my baby a privilege not a burden. Having the baby made me discover that I had love and dedication in me, while it exposed his self-centered tendencies. Of course these suffered with the advent of a new life. When I am confronted with this attitude it is difficult to curb my revulsion. If a person cannot melt with love towards their own child, then they are incapable of feeling this emotion towards anyone. It is rather sad.

A Day at Kirstenbosch

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I have been to Kirstenbosch only once before, when I came to Cape Town for the first time on an educational trip with African Eagle, the tour company I worked with while we were still living in Johannesburg. So it was natural that I would jump at the chance to go there again with Britt and her children. In the past few weeks Ron had been on several outings this way with his new friends and I felt it was only right for me to get out as well.

Robert enjoyed the day in the sunshine. He was a model child sitting on Britt’s mat, eating rice cakes and just playing with his toys and my water bottle which he emptied on the grass soon after we arrived. Britt had a harder time with her little girls, who are both fully mobile, especially as we sat near one of the small water features in the garden. It was such a beautiful day which I tried to enjoy although I was heart sore.

Seven Months: Moving Quickly

~ marobbie ~ 1 Comment

I forgot to take pictures for Robert’s seventh month birthday. A lot of stress is going on in our lives at the moment and that is why it is hard to keep track of simple pleasurable things. However, I am still very aware of the time we spend together and how we spend it. I try not to communicate my negative feelings to the little one, and I put on a happy face when I am around him. Robert does his magic to my act and after some minutes in his company I feel genuinely happy and so blessed. No matter what else happens, I have him to love for the rest of my life.

This month Robert has become mobile. He is crawling all around and covering a lot of ground with increasing speed. I took some pictures of him wearing a small baby jacket I crocheted for baby Olivia, who was finally born on the 26th of March. One can tell that he is not overly impressed with wearing pink.

He is finally starting to utter da da da, and sometimes tha tha. I note, though, that he still has a marked preference for ma ma ma. Last week Ron had the late babysitting shift, and told me that the baby was whiny, complaining a lot, and calling ma ma ma. Obviously he had some stomach ailment characterized by frequent spit up and general indisposition. The food couldn’t have caused such a problem, and my only explanation is that he is now exposed to a wider variety of germs, tramping around on the floor, whether here in our flat or at Jackie’s place. Of course, the endless teething can still be the root of all trouble. I can feel the outline of the two little bottom incisors but they haven’t put in an appearance yet. It seems unlikely now that they will show up before the end of the month.

Another interesting development is Robert’s new-found ability to pull himself up to a standing position. This can happen anywhere but mostly in the cot. It follows that it is more difficult to keep him lying down when he doesn’t want to sleep. Because he pulls himself up to a standing position and continues to complain until somebody comes to the rescue. One morning I was waiting in vain for his cries to subside, and decided to check on him. I was surprised to find him holding on to the cot’s edge and complaining. It was the first time I saw this happen, so I burst out laughing at the funny pictures. Robert did not think it was funny at all, and started crying with bitterness and hurt feelings.

Miriam has gone AWOL. I think that she has finally found an office job, and frankly she is more than capable for a regular job, and overqualified as a nanny. Pity, because I really liked her and Robert did too. But I had a feeling throughout our acquaintance that she wasn’t really interested. I have to trust my instincts more, they are usually very accurate. Now I have some complex arrangement to look after Robert and they will probably work out for a few weeks in our new and evolving circumstances.

I am starting to take more pictures of Robert in the park. The nannies love him and often carry him and play with him. I am also starting to get more involved in our play together at the park. He enjoys being on the swing and crawling around on the grass.

 

 

Finally, here are some funny pictures of my little boy:

Standing in his crib and razzing with great concentration

A somewhat glum expression

Crawling into small spaces.

Reaching up for trouble.

Since he is capable of all this, I have removed the bassinet from the crib, and he now sleeps on the lowest level, and cannot possibly jump or lean out.

Working Through It

~ marobbie ~ Leave a comment

Robert is thriving despite our problems, and it is a balm to my heart to watch him grow and share moments of play and laughter. This week he started clapping his hands with enthusiasm. I don’t know whether it is the rhythm of the music or just a reflex, but he did it for the first time as we were listening to some of the songs on my MP3 phone. Yesterday, he gave me such a laugh. I wanted to put him to bed for one of his morning naps, but he wasn’t ready to go to sleep yet, and his complaining kept getting louder and louder, so I went to check on him and found him standing up, holding the edge of his crib, with an indignant face. At the sight of him I burst out laughing, and I guess he took offence because he started crying bitterly with real tears. Of course, I had to carry him in my arms, and hold him for a little bit, and apologize for making fun of him.

Saturday Miriam showed up and we went through the whole baby routine together, and I was hoping that she will show up on Tuesday, when Ron and I had an important appointment, but she has something else planned, and now I need to find alternative arrangement. Thank God for Jackie, she always comes through for me at the correct time.

And that’s the Way the Cookie Crumbles

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If I had thought that I was going to tackle raising a child on my own, I would perhaps been daunted by the sheer magnitude of the task. Maybe I would have chickened out and lost my chance to have one. I am therefore glad that I was too short-sighted to glimpse into the future.

Over the first six years of our marriage, I did everything Ron’s way. I gave up my simple dreams for his grand ones, and I even talked myself into completely adopting his dreams instead. Whatever I did, or did not do, failed to make him any happier. Ron’s unhappiness sucked my energy and I only experienced glimpses of contentment when I was away from him. His constant grumpiness was frequently blamed on me: My inadequacy, my poor cooking, my substandard cleaning and lacking organization skill, and my overall laziness. My unhappiness though had one reason: I was living my life in a mindless pursuit of some lofty goals and dreams he set for us. The days were rushing past and I was missing the pleasures of the journey, because of intense concentration on the goal. Also, I was getting older and it was becoming harder for me to lie to myself and deny my longing to become a mother.

When I left Ron for these reasons, he was the one who came back to me. He claimed he was starting to see things my way. He wanted to join me, living the good and simple life. He came on very strong, saying all the right words and making all the right moves. He charmed my friends and made them sing his praises. Everyone expected me to give him another chance, so I relented even though I was still enjoying my hard earned independence. As Ron grew more confident of my presence on his side, glimpses of his intense and grumpy persona started to show. Again, I was party to long conversations detailing his woe; I was sucked into the trials and tribulations of dissolving the business, and finishing the work on the house. And although I had left the past and all its baggage behind I tried to come with supportive advice and encouragement. I did not want to be part of any decision that involved the past, but Ron insisted on making me part of it. The pressure made my cool analytical mind realise that the conflict of interests between us is still very real, and that I needed to break away for good. Yes, I staged the break-up in a very cruel manner, intentionally perhaps, in order to make it final and drive the point home. In the end, however, it was out of my character and I suffered for it.

Last time the pain was unbearable for me. In theory I am more capable of finding happiness without Ron. I can take pleasure in simple things, and enjoy the here-and-now without lamenting over what or where I could have been if I had made different choices in my life. The burden of regret and blame was a main feature in our married life; Ron was on a mission to recapture his position in the world, the position and prestige he lost through the break-up of his first marriage. I felt as if I was living the consequences of decisions he had made even before we met. I would have been perhaps better off without this baggage. Still, I could not take the final step on my own. The price, for me, was too high, because it meant giving up permanently on someone I loved. I desperately needed to love someone, and Ron has filled this need for so long. When I realised that I cannot live with a cruel ending of our marriage, I begged Ron to give us another chance. I honestly thought that Ron and I were capable of patching things up between us. If it was possible for him to let go of this hunger for things that we could not attain, maybe we would have been both happy. But in the end his hunger won, and our “happiness” in the past two years proved to be an illusion. For my part, and at the risk of sounding stupid and naïve, I admit that I was blinded by my own happiness which became absolute with the arrival of Robert. Ron grumbled frequently, and I played counsellor to his outbursts of discontent, but I wasn’t extremely alarmed by them. Ron had an aura of unhappiness about him ever since I knew him, and I was beginning to accept that perhaps it was just part of his personality. He is just a chronically unhappy man, and I needed to get used to it. Maybe one day he will learn that happiness is a choice, it is the wisdom to be content with what you got, and stop regretting missed opportunities. Unfortunately things did not work this way. The fight for my marriage is over, for good this time. Ron has given up the fight, and I have learnt that one person cannot win, no matter how hard they try.

If I try to examine my feelings at these developments I come up with a whole spectrum of emotions. They come in waves of coordinated or contradictory shades.

I swing between sadness, anger, disappointment and worry. Notably absent from my gamut of feelings from two years ago are the guilt and the sense of terrible loss and emptiness. My life has meaning and purpose now, with or without Ron. Robert needs me, and he is someone I can love and cherish for the rest of my life. As for Ron, I hope he will find happiness elsewhere, although I doubt he ever will. Sad really, considering that even when I met him ten years ago he was fond of repeating this mantra: “I just want to be happy”. Happiness my friend is a choice, not a goal. Perhaps you did me and Robert a favour by allowing us to leave this black cloud of gloom behind us. It is going to be hard for the next few months, but there is light at the end somewhere, and we will be happy, with the grace of God.

Thank God for Friends

~ marobbie ~ Leave a comment

I went with Jackie this morning to drop off Kirsten at the airport. The sun is just starting to rise over the Atlantic and it is going to be another gorgeous day on the southern tip of Africa. Last night I had a chance to go out with the girls for a little farewell dinner, and we all had a nice evening.

Robert’s adventures during Kirsten’s visit to Cape Town included his first time at a restaurant with mom. Kirsten invited me and Jackie to a Sushi lunch at Saul’s. It was a special occasion for me because I haven’t had sushi in over a year. Robert was mostly obliging but needed some attention midway through the meal, where I had to take a break and give him a feed. It was great that we decided to go out during lunchtime, the restaurant was not too busy and we could pass the baby around and entertain him between us, without much disturbance to the patrons.

During the past week I spent a lot of time with the girls either visiting at Jackie’s or at the park. Kirsten came over to dinner one day, and stuck around many times for feeding sessions, bath and bedtime, while I was home on my own. Her visit was a godsend for me; it helped me deal with the current stress of my life at the moment. I am still trying to get re-licensed for my load control work, and Ron is proving to be a reluctant child-care provider at home. Things are not going to get any easier for sure. I still haven’t heard from Miriam, and if I contemplate the emotional and financial cost of having a nanny it makes me sick, but that is the way things are going to be in the future. From the moment of conception, a baby is by and large a woman’s problem, and this is proving true in my case as well. But no matter how things turn out, having Robert in my life is worth it. He is the reason why I wake up every morning; he simply makes my life worth living.

Ron deals with problems differently. He has now a new constellation of friends, with whom he hangs out frequently. I am not needed in this arrangement, and I don’t think he wants me to ever meet his friends. It is his way of having his own life. He pointed out to me once that I should never try to pursue other interests while looking after Robert or breastfeeding him. “You have to understand that you have no life anymore, your life is the little boy”, he said. Of course, I knew that from the moment Robert was born. He is my life, and I am happy to have it that way. The way Ron said it, however, makes it sound like a prison sentence. At the moment I am trying to come to terms with this attitude, but our relationship has taken strain as a result. Caring for Robert is not a chore, and it makes me really angry when he views it as such. It is a privilege to be around and care for a healthy, happy, and intelligent child. It is wonderful to look into his innocent eyes and see the unconditional love and trust he bestows on us as his parents. I would give anything in the world to be able to care for him myself rather than hand him over to a nanny. In this respect, our priorities and attitudes – as they are over almost everything else- are vastly different.

I am glad that Robert is still blissfully ignorant of the stress. He is mostly happy and contented. If ever he is fussy, then it is because of his itching gum. I noticed also that putting him onto solids is giving him some constipation, and I bought him a natural laxative which the paediatrician recommended. On my next visit to the nurse I need to ask whether it is advisable to use it regularly.

Today’s funny pictures: I tried to catch him on camera in the middle of one of his razzing sessions, and the result is what you see here. It looks like the symphony of razzing requires a lot of concentration. This week also he is starting to make up babbling syllables. I am very excited that he has mastered: ma ma ma, and is starting on ba ba ba. We await the first incident of da da da any day now.