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spacespacesap I took a few photos of little fella this morning while he was half sleeping and half flirting with his mummy - and I got a few of the world's most shy cat trying to look fierce (well, yawning). I'm too sleepy to touch these up or go all Anne Geddes on you, so enjoy them in their brutally unedited glory:
spacespacespace ...until New Zealand!
Here are a few photos from this morning in the lounge. Daddy did the nappy change and hung with little man on the window seat in the lounge. And then Ben arrived to check out his new sibling:
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spacespacespace George's newest friend Uncle Angelo (remember - George is part Sri Lankan, so every male he knows who is older than him becomes "Uncle") took some lovely photos of the little man at our Saturday morning coffee date this weekend. Check out little Mr Smiley McSmileypants:
Although most people know that little George was named after his great grandfather, not so many know that his great grandfather George was actually an All Black back in the day. This photo of Great Granddad George is taken from the NZRU website. An excerpt from his website bio at www.allblacks.com:
"George Adkins was a stocky front row player whose height of 1.80m (5ft 11in) and weight of 93kg (14 and a half stones) made him ideal for the prop when that position became the vogue following the switch in the early 1930s to the 3-4-1 scrum. Timaru born and a product of Timaru Boys High, Adkins appeared for the South Canterbury union in 51 matches in the decade covering 1929-39. Excellent form in the 1934 and 1935 trials and for the South in the 1934 inter-island match won him a place on the 1935 tour of Britain."
Little George has big shoes to fill if he decides to play rugby...
Much to his mother's disgust, little George arrived in bed this morning dressed in an All Blacks onesie (thanks Aunty Momo) that is about 3 sizes too big. Daddy couldn't resist, having been given free reign on clothing choices this morning. I mean, really - how awesome is this?
spacespacespace Quite possibly against her better judgment (which is questionable, given her choice of husband), Rachel left Little One with Daddy for the morning. A more extended babysitting gig than last time, this time so Mummy could hit the hairdresser for the pre-New Zealand touch up (her hair looks lovely, of course).
We ended up at FUEL coffee, meeting my photography junkie friend Angelo - who was about to hop on a flight back to San Francisco. Handy location, as FUEL is about three floors up from the Airport train station.
Everything went well - Angelo took loads of photos of George (with a camera I would kill for) and even had a cuddle. The little punk (George, not Angelo) had the nerve to give Angelo nothing but smiles and giggles. False advertising, little one...
He snoozed and snoozed a bit more, and then I took him home. Where he snoozed. And snoozed a bit more. And at 1pm I had to physically wake him for his lunchtime feed of pureed steak and mashed potatoes. Ha, just kidding. He got milk.
Despite his voice sounding a tad hoarse (hey - it's not like he has any actual words for us), the new sleeping routine seems to be working well. I still hate watching / hearing him cry, but he really is getting to sleep in a much more predictable way. It's 11pm as I'm typing this, and he just went down again - four hours since his last feed, and with minimal fuss. All good.
Anyway, here are a few photos from Chez Narly today. Oh yes - that is indeed baby vomit on my t-shirt. I didn't spot it until Rachel pointed it out after I had taken the photo. Little sod puked all the way down Wellington, down to Picton and possibly down to Kaikoura.
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...and just in case you didn't already know, Ben still has no shame whatsoever:
Daddy took annual leave today, mainly to take the Poppy the cat to and from the vet (general anesthetic - dental work - all is fine), but also to hang with George and Mummy. We had a lovely day, most of which George slept through - and Mummy and Daddy even managed to go out for a civilised lunch at the Marriot (which George slept through). now all is quiet in the house and I'm watching the ratbags sleeping next to the heater - I'm leaving it on all night so that Poppy can "recuperate" on a nice warm cushion (if the heater is on, it also means that they don't sprint around the house all night...) A few of the sleepymonster from this morning. Or was it this afternoon? I forget.
spacespacespace Well to be honest, beating yesterday wouldn't have been too difficult. Today George got a new sleeping technique sampled on him - no more gentle cuddling and rocking for him. Military school stuff now - in the bassinet, on his side, rocked and patted until he passes out. No more cuddles and lovey dovey crap. I must say, I was a bit hesitant when I saw Rachel wobbling him like she was making a smoothie, but... he was out cold in well under half the time it usually takes to conk him out. Not too shabby.
Also - little man did tummy time today, and mummy assures me that he pushed himself up quite happily. He's so clever.
Right - Georgemonster had a great morning on his playmat. And surprise, surprise - I had the camera handy.
