Not that I’m biased at all

Today Owen and me went for Sunday roast with mum and John. Owen now sits in a booster chair and has a plate that I put food on from my plate, mum also puts some of hers to one side for him. He eats beautifully. I don’t mean tidily, because he isn’t tidy at all, he is extremely messy, but I mean beautifully. He got some admiring comments from some ladies sitting behind us, who were very impressed that he ate roast dinner!

He eats pretty much anything that is put in front of him, although he has preferences. Given a row of vegetables and a piece of meat, he will without fail choose the meat. Given a row of vegetables including tomato, he will pick the tomato. He likes red coloured food, and this rather disturbingly makes his poo rather rosy in colour too! He also shows preferences for particular toys. I gave him a row of zoo animals and he picked the turkey – he did this about six times, after I had mixed them up and added more several times. I don’t know what it was about the turkey that he particularly liked – but it does have red bits on it!

He loves pictures of babies, and again he has favourites! One of my baby books has big glossy pictures of babies, and he coos and smiles when he sees the picture on the front, but then he always turns the cover to look at the baby on the inside cover, he talks and squeals at this baby, and even kisses it! He seems to prefer it to the front cover baby, which is strange because the baby on the cover has a broad, open-mouthed smile, but the one on the inside looks a little melancholy and sad. My theory is that he is trying to cheer the baby up!

He chases me round the room when I hoover, trying to get to the hoover! And his new best friend is the washing machine, but only when it’s on. He’s kind of fickle like that. Lights fascinate him, as they always have, but now he seems to know that they go on and off. He will look at an off light expectantly, as if he expects it to come on. In the morning, when I go to turn the bedroom light on, I put my hand to the switch and say ‘Owen, where is the light?’ and he always looks straight up at it, and when it comes on his grins with delight. He knows that the switch and the light are somehow connected.

I am starting to introduce bottles of formula now. I want to phase out the breastfeeding. I feel sad about this, but I think it will help me. It’s so tiring and takes up so much time and energy, and I am still feeling pretty ill a lot of the time. I want to feel that he isn’t reliant on my milk, to know I can leave him with mum, or someone – Rob and Em maybe – and just give them his bottle. And I’ve been so worried about my milk supply decreasing and him not getting enough – that wouldn’t be an issue. Plus I would be able to take medicines, maybe anti-depressants if it came to it. And he has to stop breastfeeding at some point, doesn’t he? It’s good to know that he will take bottles – and now he’s taking a fair amount of the hypoallergenic milk. Okay, so I am adding strawberry flavour to it, but I will gradually cut that out. I had thought at one point that he would never take that milk, so this is great progress!

I don’t even want to think about the last breast feed, it upsets me too much. But it has to happen sometime. I have to allow my little man to grow up. And getting independant of the breast is kind of like the first step towards being an independant being, isn’t it? As long as he’s breastfed, he’s reliant on me and me alone for sustenance. Once he’s eating solids and drinking milk that doesn’t come from me, in theory he’s his own person. He already knows his own mind and does his own thing, I think he’ll be a fiercely independant child. And clever. And gorgeous. And… well, you know. Perfect, basically. Not that I’m biased at all!