Daily rhythm

I'm very happy (and at the same time, a bit wary in case I jinx it) to report that Jack has settled into a lovely daily rhythm.

WARNING: The following may be mindnumbingly boring for anyone except grandparents, aunts and uncles. Please feel free to scroll impatiently down.

Jack wakes around 6am and Joel feeds him while I wriggle my toes in speechless pleasure at the luxury of being able to sleep a bit longer in the velvet warmth. Then Joel and Jack go downstairs and Jack helps his dad with emails and important work stuff for the next hour, then they come back upstairs and Joel takes his small pink body into the shower with him. I sneak a look sometimes and it's a lovely sight. After his shower, I take Jack and dry him, dress him and pop him into bed with me for the next breastfeed, followed by a little nap.

The rest of the day follows with a gentle dance of nappy changing, feeding, playing, rushing through emails in the gaps, making a mental note to ramp up my small software business, washing bottles, planning to go for a walk on the beach and then getting sidetracked, feeding again, wondering why I didn't go out for coffee more often when I was pregnant and still had the chance, changing nappy, taking him for a walk in the pram, planning to take Nala for a walk and some one-on-one time, then getting sidetracked, changing nappy, realising I didn't do any business 'ramping up', feeding (yes, again!) making formula...

Then the last part of the day arrives, as the sun falls into the sea and the damp chill of the winter night creeps in. Our evening ritual is a breastfeed up in the tv room, usually while I watch (dare I say it?) Oprah, then I give Jack a warm bath downstairs in the steamy bathroom (learnt the trick of running the hot water in the shower to warm up the room from 'What to Expect: The First Year'), and wrap him up in a big towel and take him upstairs. This is followed by a baby massage, me savouring the feel of his soft skin and chunky legs, him sucking his fists. Then I dress him in his pjs and baby bag. The last feed at around 7pm is a warm bottle of formula while we cuddle on the bed: I breathe in the scent of freshly bathed baby and let the cosy sucking sounds fill the quiet bedroom. After a bit of rocking and burping, I put him gently down in his cot (asleep or not) and head downstairs for a glass of wine with my name on it. When I go back to check on him ten minutes later, he's fast asleep, little arms resting on the pillow next to his head in a victory pose.

I promise that the next blog entry will be about the state of the world in these changing times...(that's if I don't get sidetracked....)