Flying solo again | George's little "oooooh!" face

Grandma B has now left us and we're flying solo again.  Hopefully it's just a coincidence that George had his worst night of sleep since the day before Grandma B arrived in Hong Kong, but we'll see... Could Grandma B's presence next door to George be the secret behind long nights of sleep? Another lazy Sunday - after the trip out to Stanley yesterday, George stayed at home today.  He had a lovely visit from little Evie, and her parentals Alex and Amanda, who spoiled little G-monster with a most excellent activity bee (which he was staring at and playing with dribbling on a few minutes ago) and a cute little farmer teething ring which we hopefully won't need to use for quite a while...

Sadly, nothing else worth reporting from out here in the Far East, other than the Australian commentators that I'm currently listening to (NZ v Aus cricket) are still as annoying and one-sided as can ever. Sooo painful to listen to, but I have no other option, as I scrapped my subscription to the "live cricket channel" when they decided that "live" was coverage from 1993.

Photos - nothing too exciting, although George is gradually perfecting his "Ooooooh!" face, and I have to admit that I had to bribe Poppy with cat treats to make him stand right in the middle of the sunset scene:

The "Oh no, it's Aunty Momo" face

spacespacespace I took a few photos of the little guy this morning, but they're sitting on my camera at home.  Will upload those tonight, but thought you'd like this photo we snapped of George last night - it's the face he used when we were chatting to his Aunty Momo in Auckland, NZ.  It's a face a lot of us use when chatting to Aunty Momo...

Saturday, Saturday

Weekend at last and all is fine in Chez George (although I can hear Rachel vigorously patting his back now to settle the little fella). This morning George had the pleasure of Daddy doing the poopy nappy change, and Daddy had the pleasure of discovering what appeared to be a mustard spill in George's pants.  Gross, man. Dinner with Ned was excellent, and as he has two little ones of his own, he knew exactly what we were going through in the opening weeks of The George Show.  Poor Ned was a tad jetlagged (either that or we were reaaaaally boring...), and it was an early evening for him - then up for a 9.15am flight to Australia for work.

Today we're heading out to Kowloon to see Rebacca with a view to picking up Barbara's 60th present, and after that - well, a whole lot of nothing I'm guessing. George is currently guzzling at what seems like his 43rd feed of the day, Barbara is doing the crossword, and I'm... well, doing this.

George's first walk

We took George out for a walk yesterday, and I can confirm that it takes the better part of an hour to prepare a 3kg baby for a 2km walk.  And he doesn't even walk yet. Grandma and Mummy kitted the little fella out and prepared his stuff for the Lord of the Rings-esque journey down to the local supermarket. Nappy, onesie, trousers (verrry cute) a woolly cardigan, a hat, a shawl and a cover for the stroller (a bystander would be forgiven for thinking that the cover was bulletproof - it really is spectacular).  I flipped out the phone and took a photo for your benefit.  Apologies for any blurriness, I may have been giggling at the impressive fortress that he was hidden behind (there is actually a child under there somewhere):

The walk was pretty uneventful, as the little fella didn't once stir and was dead to the world for both the journey there and the journey back.  Mummy was a bit sore after the walk down, and so Mummy and Grandma ended up taking a cab back while Daddy faced his first true test of parenthood and had to push the little guy back home, unsupervised.

Below is a map of the walk we went on (it was 2km from bottom to top) and I have helpfully marked the areas where I stopped to make sure George was still breathing.  I am such a rookie father:

Needless to say, I got him home safely.  I am a legend.

I leave you with a shot of him and yet-to-be-named Hippo (I tried to name him "Hiphop" but the ladies of the house vetoed it) taken this morning:

Oh - and a photo of Ben for your viewing pleasure...

Grandma arrives, George sleeps

Spacespacespace Last night was considerably better than George's first night at home - he had a bit more to eat during the day, and actually had a few stretches of pretty decent sleep in the night.  Only rocky time was between 1:30am and 2:45am when his daddy rocked him and walked him around while Mummy got a bit of sleep.  He was pretty good - not really many tears, however he simply didn't want to sleep.

This morning Barbara arrived and promptly got to making her aquaintance with her grandson.  Unfortunately, George wasn't particularly keen to awake from his morning slumber to mark the occasion, but some nice cuddles did eventuate.  After the unwrapping of some absolutely lovely presents (thank you notes to come, for anyone who sent gifts), we had a bit of lunch and the little dude went back to clocking up his 16 hours of sleep. Oh, what a life.

The cold weather seems to suit the rascals (as in the cats - Ben and Pop), as it means that we turn the heaters on - and they sit next to them all day.  Seriously, an injured mouse dressed in a catnip jacket with pockets stuffed full of tuna could run across the lounge floor, and they still wouldn't move from next to the heater.  If said mouse was dragging a still-warm heater behind him, they might consider checking him out.

Anyway - here are a few of George sleeping this afternoon (in the top left of the photos you can see the foot of the pink hippopotamus that Aunty Jane and Uncle Eliot gave him).  I've also knocked up a photo of Ben, because I'm feeling guilty about his cyberspace neglect.