Absence makes the child grow blonder

Bless me readers it has been a week since my last blog. I am finally back to work. Heavy stuff. So heavy that my wonderful wife and beautiful son have taken the opportunity to head home to the West for a few days. I am left to work late and fend for myself. I managed to get down to see them at the weekend but only for 24 hours.

So for the last week I have not seen much of the subject of this blog. It is difficult to blog about someone who you can't see. I could try and explain the depths of separation that I feel. The long days and weeks together and then a simple separation. But this blog is not about me. So I will rely on second hand reports and pictures and my brief impressions of him at the weekend.

He seems very indifferent to the move. Different hands change his nappy and a different shoulder comforts him but it seems that he doesn't notice. He will smile if smiled at and will respond to tickles and the right baby noises. He is in the best hands and his Mum is right there to provide the nurture and nourishment.

The other piece of news is that he is taking an irregular bottle to augment his normal feeds. It is early days but he will take whats given to him only in a very specific set of circumstances. He must not be too hungry, he must be calm, he must be where he wants to be and he must be able to wriggle. It takes a bit of work but if all the things are right then he will drink it down in seconds, even through a special slow breast-like teat.

He has a little rash. It's just a little one but he has sort of pimped the rash by scratching himself. Take two or three light scratches and in a certain light he looks like a zombie child. If he rolls his eyes at the same time then its brainzzzzz for everyone. So I bit his nails. It was a bit weird but if you nip the edge of the nail and then tear sideways the nail rips off along the grain and the extra claws are gone. This also cleans the nails - which are very dirty and make me ashamed.

The first time I did this I got a very funny taste in my mouth. It was like a tasting history of everything that Max had touched since his last bath. The floor, his mouth, milk, clothes, the pram, the car seat, all the people who have held him. It tasted like a combination of milk and baby and clean dirt. But I took it like a man and reckoned that if his hands go into his mouth then I can probably handle it too! Properly shorn, he can scratch as much as he likes without adding to or subtracting from his complexion. At least until next week when he will grow a new set of them.

A note, he is now eight weeks and a few days, that's two months. Two months! Two months! sure he is practically applying for his driving license - slow this train down!