Warhol baby

The Hand That Rocks The Cradle

The visiting health visitor parted our home the other day with a warning: on no account EVER leave your toddler alone in the room with the baby while you are not there. It seems obvious but it is like one of those stories where a dog owner swears – I don’t understand it, Rover never bites, he’s just always so friendly – as the dog savages a small child to pieces. However, on the practical front, it is actually very hard trying to avoid popping into the other room or going to the loo while leaving the children alone in the other room. It is easy to forget that in child-time, things happen about 20 million parsecs faster than in adult time. We got a small taste of what a toddler can do when we watched Aimee wander up to Dylan’s carrycot and peered inside. Within a split second, she started rocking it very hard, to the point where if we had not intervened, it could have toppled from its stand. On another occasion, Cat was carrying Dylan but Aimee wanted something out of reach to her and when Cat said No, Aimee started slapping Dylan hard. A swift rebuke brought tears (while Dylan thankfully was ok). And this is all within our sight. Imagine if she was left alone? Of course Aimee is too young to know the consequences of her actions. And all Dylan cares is when his next meal is coming from.

Silent Night

Blessed sleep. The commodity that no money can buy a new parent. Aimee is in bed by 8pm but can take up to an hour to wind down, she wakes at 5:30am. Dylan sleeps no longer than 2 hours if lucky and right now, he seems only happy unless he is suckling all the time. Poor Cat, she sleeps no more than about 2 hours a night. The regime right now is relentless. Since DJ was born, one or other member of our family has stayed over to help, but now the honeymoon period is definitely over. From Monday, Cat is on her own looking after DJ and Aimeesan. But the shimmer of light is that once the sleep thing has passed, you quickly forget how hard it is. Aimee took almost 9-10 months before she would sleep through the night. But now, she’s like any other toddler – using all her tricks to delay the event as long as possible but finally pegging out when fatigue takes over. We’ll occasionally ge a scream or a whelp in the middle of the night, but she quickly falls back to sleep. But I find the very early morning starts a shock to my system – a system highly trained from years of the discipline of the midday lie-in. As a natural night-owl I cannot physically sleep before midnight – 1am being my preferred bedtime. Factor in Aimee’s early mornings and I get no more than 4 hours a night. Which kinda reminds me of ole Maggie Thatchers oft claimed 4-hours a night sleep. She made that claim in Gordan Gekko like fashion ie sleep is for wimps. But if that’s the case, then please, please, let us be eternal wimps.

Birthday Girl

Wow what an amazing day at Planet Yangwood. We celebrated Aimee's second birthday by kicking off the day with a Skyped video session with Aunty Googoo, Uncle Mat, Granddad Ye-Ye and baby Oscar. Aimee missed her Nai-Nai of course and kept asking for her, but alas circumstances will have to save that for another day. Then over came all the family Maccas and friends Jennifer and Tony who brought down their two-year old Luke, who packs a hell of an impact in his tiny but chubby frame. Luke and Aimee spent the day tearing up and down the flat, playing hide and seek and generally creating noisy fun together. It was great to see Aimee really enjoy herself and slightly bizarre to see the two of them chatting with each other over what toys to play with (bizarre cos only when you see Aimee out of the usual at home context do you realise that she has grown so much). I think Aimee misses the company of other children being stuck at home all the time, but next year we plan to reintroduce her to nursery.

Aimee had so many presents that we had to stagger the opening sessions into several batches over the day. In fact the next day, there were still several waiting to be opened! And then there was the cake, sweets, biscuits and all manner of party food to send Aimee into a chemically-induced hyperactive frenzy. Throughout all the party commotion, diddy pretty much slept thoughout. Thanks to all the Maccas who came along, especially Sarah who helped us out tons during the past week. And also great to hook up with Aunty Googoo, Mat, Grandad ye-ye and ickle Oscar via Skype. We even had a visit from our elderly neighbours, who have done loads to make us feel welcome in our new home. Also props to Cat who, despite a lack of proper sleep, was a whirlwind in the kitchen, creating more than enough pizzas and snacks.

Aimee had a great time and it's only fitting that having felt a bit left out since the birth of Diddy, she was back to full Aimee-fun mode. I wonder what future birthdays will be like? Probably more mad and more noisy - and with both kids born in November - a potentially bank crippling time of the year too. Oh well, as long as the kids have fun, then me and Cat are happy.

Daddys boy

Piggie Wiggie

It's bathtime! Diddy enjoys his first dip and he seemed like he enjoyed himself. Must be like going back into the womb at a comfy 37 degrees. Unlike the November weather here, which is a less than comfy 7 degrees during the day.

Clever Aunty Sylvie sent me the translation of his Chinese name:

Chuan Yin.

Chuan = to propagate, to pass knowledge, to transmit.

Yin = to shelter under a tree, to comfort, to protect.

Chuan is the name as decreed by the family naming system, Yin was decided by his grandparents.

Chinese names can be so poetic, I think his chosen names are really lovely. Diddy is born under the Chinese Year of the Pig. And he sounds like one too when her is crying. Not the piggy squeals, but the piggie nasal grunts, erm, a bit like his Dad.

Blowin' in the Wind

We have a name, finally, at last. Dylan was always Cat's favourite name. It is closest to the Chinese word for little brother - di-di. But also wanted to maintain a family link, so he takes James from his Grandad. So new baby is now Dylan James Yang in English, Yang Chuan Ying in Chinese.
We call him didi all the time now but he may wish to be known as Diddy, Dyls or DJ when he is older, so there are plenty of options. Aimee can say Dylan perfectly, but then she is so fluent now she can say hundreds of words and numbers with no hesitation. It is like her vocabulary has exploded from out of nowhere. Maybe it helps being at home everyday, absorbing all the phrases and commands we utter. Often giving us back as good as she gets.
Sister Sarah is taking over the reins helping out with us this week. She's already proving to be a big hit with Aimee, playing and dancing non-stop (to the point where she refuses to go to bed!) and Diddy sleeps very well in her arms, giving us tired and exhausted Mum and Dad a much needed rest.
But poor diddy is a bit bunged up in the nasal passages making him very snorty and sniffly. I think the central heating disagrees with his sensitive little nose. He also has come out really flakey all over his body. But a bit of olive oil and maybe, his first ever bath will sort that out. The infant acne seems to be appearing in small places, but not as bad as when Aimee had it. Ew, I can barely look at the photos of that time, it gives me goosebumps.
So onward and upward. Many artisans share the name of Dylan, we wonder if he will follow their creative leads.

Mummy's boy, Daddy's girl

ET phone home!

Boy Yang’s first week passed by and he grows chubbier by the day, Cat swears by the hour! But he is still jaundiced, although the health visitors say it is nothing to be worried about. He also cries a lot when he is not feeding. All he ever wants is his milk, even when he is completely full up. We reckon it is a comfort thing cos he is obviously exhibiting signs of being a mummy’s boy. The easy thing to do in this case would be to shove a pacifier/dummy into his mouth, that way everyone can get rest. But Cat is never gonna allow this. She didn’t with Aimee and won’t do for new boy.
I should mention that we finally got a new front door. It replaced the annoying door that was so drafty you could see the neighbours across the road through the gaps. It is just one of a thousand household things I need to get sorted – like get a garden shed. Cat’s Dad kindly mowed our lawn yesterday. It is so long that I suspect David Bellamy might be lurking in there checking out the wildlife. Yes, a new shed would be very important as it means I am committed to actually having to do garden activities like rake, mow, dig and other gardeney things that people apparently do on weekends (what do I know? I am an inner city flat dweller all my adult life!). Mind you, in order to do that, I would have to venture into the garden itself, something I have not yet done.
Right now, I am just having to deal with the Ever Ready Bunny that is Aimee. Cat seems to have taken on the role of sole new born carer and thus I am totally in charge of Aimee. And what a schedule it is too. Up at 5:30am and immediately the games begin – dancing, singing, playing hide and seek, tickle, jump on daddy, playing stop the Aimee destroying my personal possessions ( a real fave that one) etc etc. It is relentless but there are times of great laughs and real enjoyment for both me and Aimee. The day ends roughly around 8pm and in between there are interludes that pass off as feeding times and nap times. What is important is that Aimee feels she is not left out in all this new baby commotion and she seems slowly to be warming to the crying bundle in the carrycot. Maybe if we gave him a name, it would make things a bit easier. But that’s Cat’s job so we could be waiting a little while.

1-banana, 2-banana, 3-banana-4...

A one and a two

Our new addition is fast settling in to family life. The midwife came round today to weigh him and was shocked at how much weight he had put on. He was 7lb 4oz. A pretty decent 7-8oz gain in a little under 5 days since birth. She wondered if they weighed him wrong when he was born. In anycase, she was incredibly gushing about how well he has taken to the breast and she gave Cat nothing but compliments and praise. In passing, she remarked on a recent newborn community visit where she arrived at the home and the mother was nowhere to be found - the father said she had gone to the pub!
Aimee was also weighed for her two-year check-up yesterday, she weighed over 12.45Kilos which is spot on average for her age. She is also 83 cm high which is pretty average and I only add this info as it is useful when buying new clothes for her.
(NB: if you’re wondering why the overlap between metric and imperial weights and measurements – don’t ask me, I’m just writing what the experts tell me are the figures…so much for standardisation).

So still no name for newborn. We’ve toyed with classic old English, classic celt and gaelic, hip and trendy, posh and chavvy. They all don’t seem to chime at the moment. But baby boy is fattening up fast and with his fine blonde hair, actually looks quite Aryan. We did chuckle at calling him Enoch.

Aimee has been funny these past few days. We expected her to play up due to the new addition and she has done, but it is quite subtle. She will play her usual games and hijinks but definitely wants more cuddles and even seems a bit sad and maudlin at times. At one point, I was holding baby and Cat was talking to her Mum and Aimee was protesting by lying on the floor screaming :HELLO, HELLO??? Another moment, we asked to to come into the baby bedroom for some cuddles and she point blank refused and shouting NO NO NO!!!!
I hope she gets over her funk and gets used to baby. Well, she doesn’t have much choice and it will be tougher once I go back to work in a week.

Settling in

Baby boy is doing well. Went back to hospital today to check feet but doc says he is fine

The Baby Boy in the Bubble

Each day passed and each day no sign of baby No2 coming out. And then, just after supper on Thursday night (1st Nov) I was washing the dishes and Cat said to me she thought things were starting. It was as casual and low key as that. The contractions were about 3 minutes apart but very mild so the hospital told us on the phone to wait at home. So I returned to the washing only for Cat to say, erm, can we hurry up now?
Watford General has two floors for maternity. The Alexander Birthing Centre and the main maternity dept. The ABC is a home-from-home unit, where everything is calm and quiet and chilled. So chilled you could be forgiven for thinking it was a branch of Starbucks. After initial examination and with Cat confirmed as being 3-4 cm dilated, she checked the notes and said we had to go upstairs to the main unit since the doctors notes recommended a drip after the birth and the ABC do not do ANY medical intervention. Reluctantly we staggered upstairs, stopping every 3 minutes as Cat held on and puffed away as the contractions started to come in full force.
The main ward was actually again quite chilled and relaxed. Night time obviously suits the labour ward as it is free from visitors and admin staff. We had a nice delivery room and a very nice midwife who stayed with us the entire duration. Cat huffed and breathed and yelled a little, while I, shame to admit, fell asleep in the chair, every so often coming to and uttering a few ‘well done Cat, breathe’ before nodding off again. Next thing I knew, Cat said, can you get the midwife (she was not actually in the room most of the time and just left Cat to get on with things). Once the midwife arrived she examined Cat and then things rushed very fast indeed.
The midwife, Esther, said to me, look, you can see the water has not broken and it is pushing out. And yes, out of Cat came an oblong pink water balloon. I said, is that the head? The midwife poked it and said looks like baby will be delivered in it’s waters, ooh look, there is the head, get ready, she said, why I said, but before I could finish, out shot our baby like a slippery cannon ball.
The midwife held baby aloft, still in his comfort bubble. She didn’t so much burst it as peel it and suddenly, there he was. She also noted that his umbilical cord was around his neck – but she deftly unhooked it and there it was, the first scream. Time, 3:50am on November 2nd, 2007.
Immediately, Cat held out her arms and kissed and hugged him. In response, our baby son immediately stopped crying and started looking around, quite fascinated with his new life. Within minutes, Cat put him to breast, aware that before, a very long delay with Aimee could have been the reason for her breast feeding troubles. But there was nothing to worry, he suckled like a pro! In fact he won’t stop.
The whole labour took about 6 hours from admittance to the ward. It was so much different to our experience with Aimee. And everything felt natural and straight-forward. Cat suffered a few tiny tears and a tiny blood loss. Of course, nothing compared to the trauma of last time. I was awe struck at how tiny a newborn baby is. I mean REALLY tiny. I am so used to Aimee now that holding a newborn again has come as quite a shock.
So now, we’re at home adjusting to life with a new baby. Aimee is interested more in playing and running and being a toddler on speed, but she has mentioned her ‘di-di’ several times and seems fascinated whenever Cat comes down with him. And we need to find a name, since it is very impersonal to write about our baby No2 or the boy baby. We could call him poo bottom, since all he seems to do is poo – all the time, constantly. I blame Cat’s over-productive milk supply.
So, as a tired but very happy father retires to bed, I would like to say thanks and blessings that we have a wonderful, beautiful new child in our lives.